To feel this way.
I write while in a trance
It also depends on the sea.
Ask Claudia.

My childhood was like a merry-go-round:
She came in and out she went.
I learned as a boy.
We ought to be ashamed

But why paint only women?
Who needs beautiful things nowadays
didn’t you see his eyes?
way out at sea.

shall we get married?
Shall we go for a swim?
that story of the shark… it wasn’t true.

I found these in her suitcase.
the sea, a child, a cat.
Just a small souvenir.
was nothing to her, meant nothing to her.

That girl you’re looking for.
I don’t need to know why
Why have we stopped?
makes me want to die… Drowned?

The sea is getting rough.
Such movement.
Imagine that
a red floor suits a certain room,

To be alone longer:
I’d make you a beautiful portrait.
The sweetest pining I will feel
No, no, you can’t leave me

Of course… the sea…
is like missing a limb.
I had a dream I was swimming.
I’m distraught. The idea of losing you,

Last night I went to bed thinking
We’re in the hands of God.
who needs to see everything clearly.
It’s difficult keeping a relationship going,

Your sensitive little heart races
No landscape is as lovely
My skirt came unstitched,
he notices what’s underneath.

lf I’m not mistaken they’re all nudes.
The sea is getting rough.
Why have I fallen in love
why don’t you say this too?

And what do you feel when you’re painting?
Won’t you leave me a souvenir.
after 30 years of never telling
Summer is really over.

your presence here –
I felt it a little more this time.
To think there were woods
makes me want to die…

My kisses
many volcanoes.
the whole story
It’s harrowing having to be apart.


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