Secret.

Esto, así tal cual, lo comenté en este post de Lovesick (una maravillosa sección de Sercret Vespers)... pero es mío, tan mío, que lo quiero acá...

I want to meet you by chance in that park where we used to search for promised elephants, drinking lemonade with mint and yelling nonsense to the wind. We will steal a bike each to race throughout the boulevard waiting for the sun to set… and forming circles on the empty streets I will sing old songs to make you smile. We will arrive to an apartment with wooden floors and eat bread with creamcheese and white wine and beer and red wine and mary jane, planning the week-end in an auction or in a summer house or swimming by the canal. I want to meet you soon and pretend that there’s no distance. I don’t want to have to say the things I feel I have to say, I just want it the way it was.

Perdón por los abusos... de links, de puntos suspensivos, de ausencias, de esas cosas.