The age of Love.

Hecor had an eye gum and I took it out.

Despite everyone getting grossed out.

Hecor gets home every night with a flaming desire in his guts to rip the huge flag in his neighbor’s balcony.

Lazarus gets around with a tambourine and a coffee on the house. I don’t know if he feels anything or he is programmed this way.

The phone hasn’t rung yet. That specific call, of angry eyes and distance.

In that specific house where everything is scrutinized and you always feel naked.

Where everything is criticized, from your new passport picture to the lies in your resume.

Inside closets there lie photo albums and children clothes.

Time has stopped in the 90s.

And yet my big secrets haven’t came out.

Those that took pictures in bridges and now post photographs and songs with little hearts on top.

The necessary-birthday cake with candles and gifts.

It’s the hobbit in me talking.

I would like to be either an undertaker throwing special cerenomies for each and every one. Or a lawyer, wearing every day heels and dresses and my expensive work bag.

John Cleland admired and observed men’s members. He called them monsters.

Παράθυρα Λογοτεχνίας για Νέους

Intellectum 10