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Confessions to the moon
The most intimate thing, for me, is not kissing you, nor holding you.
It's talking to you about myself.
If I give you my body, I can take it back.
But if I give you my thoughts, it's like giving you a piece of my heart.
And when you leave, you take with you
the deepest part of me — the one I'll never get back.
musti.dab
There are still things I want to tell you.
Small things, mostly.
A plant I finally learned the name of.
Something stupid one of my cats did.
A sentence I heard on the street that would have made you laugh.
A tree somewhere in Berlin carrying fruit, the kind we would have stopped to inspect as if discovering it ourselves.
Sometimes something happens and my first thought is still:
I have to tell you this.
And for one tiny second, you still exist exactly where you used to.
Then I remember.
There is nowhere to send it anymore.
