SALIVA.

Let’s just call it a day.
I dreamed about my hands. They were small, and pale. Chalk under water.
I’ll learn. I’ll drift.
The scales of Klimt are missing from my window.
I want today to be my birthday, but I want never to grow old. In my birthday, I have the perfect excuse to make it all like I want it.
I’ve been thinking about the year 2021. It sounds like so long ago, like that day I explored an old castle in Spain, or that other one when I saw the sun crushing down over the river, decomposing on the water and contaminating it with it’s orange and violet strands of saliva.
I can’t understand a life without the dimension of the understanding of the painful poetry of its existence.
I want to play Sims, and use tricks to have loads of money and build amazing houses.
I went to the see a few days ago. I love the sea.
I’m going to the movies tonight with my guy.