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Archive for Julio, 2010

Vratit

Florenc has become a forced pit stop between us, unless at least until I finally graduate from college. The last shines of the day light her blonde eyelashes, as they disappear by the movement of the bus departure. She might be carrying the same bottle of coke that I gave her at the very same place, because I had to decide rather taking the coke or the Top Topic in the luggage. She might find the Sony Walkman that she kindly gifted me for my birthday. I lost it on the same route she’ll make in some days. I couldn’t control my movements on that bus that night, when the Prague’s summer was just about to start, while I have to start another winter without her. The german police will grant her condition of european citizen, and will let her through the path of our gather. People gather to drop off at Frankfurt Flughafen, while the enormous brand new Deutsche Bahn building reminds us our condition of second division lions. Her boarding pass might be wrinkled. She might pray to God to find no partner at her seat, so she can rest as she deserves. She might watch the last film of the Eclipse saga, thanks to the on board entertainment system of the airline. She’ll might ask for a beer, cause our beer ain’t that good. If she could only know that I’m thinking the very same thing as her, but on the other side of the moon. What a silence, what a night. What an everlasting flight. What a love to fight for. What a big water mass to cross. What an airline counter to toss. Shall the stopover at Sao Paulo be quick. Shall I have a combi driver to kick, because the traffic jam of Lima is worse than ever. I’ll take a combi because I’ll return to Prague on March, and she taught me to save money. Save money to grow up, to learn the value of it. To beat the shit out of this by making her tremble with a kiss of mine. Because she’s still mine. Because we still mind. Because the boarding procedure is just about to start, and my dog will wag the tail for her. She knows there’ll be a star over there. I saw her by heights above me. Her pictures just got bored of inventing different attitudes every single day, because my needs to see her again overcome the boundaries of imagination. The migration officer well greet her with a calid vítejte v Peru znovu. She knows I’ll pick her up with Taxi Real, because she looks like the real thing, and she tastes like the real thing. Oh L’amour. She never shops at Lidl, but the little things we’ve said and done they all remind me of nothing but love. She wore a peruvian hat called “chullo” when she picked me up at Florenc. I shall dress like one of the Maxim Turbulence guys and will sing Jede Jede Mašinka. Because I owe her a nightswimming at Aqua Palace for March. Because she deserves a quiet night. I will wait for her at the airport with bed of roses and a cigarette to light, and light is the time that remains to see her.