Noche Cerrada

And there I was: in the middle of the street, looking at the white sky full of clouds, feeling the cold in the air as if a spider were biting my flesh.
I didn't have any particular reason, you know, but at the moment I really felt the world empty. As if the game were over and all the emotion had vanished in the air, no longer existing. That's why I ran, ran all over the open ground, stepping into the wild grass and the wild flowers, savage nature, violently, careless, running my way back to him. Cause I really, really, really needed to see him. He represented my dreams, the only thing in the world able to move me deep inside, able to make me desire, to make me change all over again. I knew we haven't seen each other for years: may he doesn't recognize me, may I think he's now a fool... but I have the imperious need, no, urge, to meet him and ask back my reason to go on living.

I found his house. And his damn stairs. I've always had a personal problem with that fucking twisted stairs, spinning round and round like a nail shell. Oh god, so many times I've changed them with my hands, but they were always back to their original state...

And then, there he was, and I saw him with my own eyes this time. Amazing. He was beautiful. Frozen on his sixteen, taller than me at my twenties, bright green eyes like a pair of young and tender leafs. His hair barely covering his ears, like ancient wood in a forest, fragile, shining: he dazzled me. He was smiling the smile I love, a smile you can feel like a lullaby... or like the most pleasure hiding treasure of danger. He sang a single word, and his voice went deep into my bones as a command. Then we ran down the stairs as we chat, shouting, waking up the neighbourhood...


Everywhere I go, 
when everyone who knows me
knows that I would stand alone
It's all part of the game
The game
The game!

We all play it the same.