As if we never really knew each other.
When I rushed into the glass phantom it was raining. I pushed the door open and it automatically closed behind me. I took a postcard with a black bird in the centre. The color black concentrated in the middle of the circle presented in the shape of a bird as if looking through a focused stereoscope.
I wasn't realized that it was you when I looked for tables to sit. Thinking of you more than once is forbidden in rainy days. I had already thought about you on the bus when I saw the reflection of my fingers tapping on the window where the images slowly dissolved into the melting raindrops. The world appeared to me as a drifting mosaic space full of rains and breathing figures. You are one of the figures when I'm not thinking of you, a breathing figure hidden inside of a human shell.
The second you came to me I was scared.
When abstraction was suddenly delineated into something pictorial and specific, so specific that every detail of your face, your gesture, and the way how you pronounce each word counts. It recalled the moments that had already transformed into decorations of the architecture constructed within the memories called "history". Then such unexpected encounter became something magically violent and undefinable.
You smiled, and said, "Hi."
As if it was the first time.
"Oh Hey."
I smiled, replied.
Then it was silence. The music was too loud that my brain twisted into a small black ball. The nerves that were responsible for the operation of language stopped functioning, and I shrank into a tacit paper doll.
"Do you wanna a cigarette?"
...
...
...
...
Cigarette and the cool air woke me up while we were standing in the rain. I became half deaf as our conversation went along, and I could hear nothing but the raindrops. The only way to communicate was to read your lips. The lips that always talk about fairy tales and strange philosophies. I remembered how genteelly imaginary they were.
Oh It rained so much that I couldn't help sinking.
You kissed me on the cheek in the rain before you said, "Ciao."
"Ciao"
the loneliest,
followed by a full stop.
As if it was the first time,
we never really knew each other.
You softly walk away from me.