AN EMAIL-MESSAGE

 
I can only send you the orphaned email message with the Wi-Fi connection thought to be looted and some digital photos. The wages of my year are already turning yellow, and by the long-ago balmy summer, only nostalgias, familiar sweet movements, answer. He infused our difficult love – if there was - the marcona of our fate, the selfish law to the core, like the curious, exposed teenagers – once upon a time, we both thought hesitantly that our kissing hugs could fill the whole Universe.

My orphaned tears address me again – if you want, if you don't - my feverish temple has been relieved by your former babbling. The famous beach where the engraved truth glistened on wedding rings hidden in coconut balls: , I love you so much!” – And our unnecessary words could only seem like childish, small-time, out-of-the-way nicknames. I'm humming a crying, lonely, romantic serenade at you, and even now for – so many tumultuous, much-tried years - I'm long-sufferingly hoping that your golden-feeling heart can lure you back to me.

I can only send you one pathetic, useless digital letter: it includes my entire, hoped-for life. Read between the lines slowly and thoughtfully, if I may ask. I wanted to live by the sea. Loud ocean foam would have washed the tracks of our feet. – Because now I feel more and more dull, evening fevers are coming for me, while a heart attack danger is eagerly hammered in my madly high-blood pressure heart. Do you just feel the defected ruins of your Absence, which you have started in yourself, just like me, and can't you forget what it was like to love bewitched with a glance of flirtation?

What could have clung to the possibility of a fuller, more likely life?!