I have not forgotten you – the nights are long and difficult. The water. The ship and the dock and the parting which made you appear so small, to my eyes, framed in that round porthole, and you gazing at me so as to keep me in your heart. Everything is untouched.
so forgotten and so firm. Snail shells and the bride-doll, is yours too – I mean, it is you. Her dress, is the same one she wouldn’t take off on the day of the wedding to no-one, when we found her half asleep on the dirty sidewalk of some street.