Avant Garde Cinema
Three paced steps I saw my worn boots take on this damped street. At every contact of the pavement, I realized that I knew this silent street. This mean street. This echo of a street. This cold and dark street. This empty asphalt, now painting my breath with whites and grays.
The third hit and splash went. Hands in pockets I looked up to the sky and spoke, "You know what I wanna do?" A question to my friend. My frustrated good fellow, standing feet behind. He knew I needn't a reply.
A grin grew on my face with a sudden turn of my body. My arms went up like a Spanish matador, welcoming a crowd of vacant spaces as I faced him. My voice beckoned, "I wanna live in a Shakespearean tragedy!"
He stayed silent. I smiled.
I'm In Love, Mike. I'm sorry.
Think I grew fond of taking care of you.
Being protective of you.
Of your heart.
From a distance.
Even if this meant being abrasive.
I remember being surrounded by nature.
I met you there.
Seemingly lost and falling.
You walked into one of my favorite places.
The place I once thought of making my secret grave.
My peaceful tomb.
Beautiful and breathing.
It became inappropriate to think of death then.
To think of weakness.
Trees of sisters.
A fortress of trees.
It's been too long since.
Too fucking long.
May the devil and the god I don't believe in,
send me the sentence I have scored for myself.
May they too, grant you the peace, the love,
the freedom and the shelter you need and rightfully deserve.
I love you. You are my friend.