Two.

11 Sep

There´s two. There´s only two of them. There´s two hearts, two minds, two sets of eyes that feast on each other. Upon that feast, there´s red wine and his favourite French cigarettes. There´s her scent and the sound of love exploding within them. There´s her scent and his happiness. There’s her smile. There’s his. There’s the invisible scars that others have left, and the ones that they intend to leave on each other´s fields. There´s laughter. There’s love exploding and there’s a million flavours. There’s ripe fruit, there’s flowers and there’s all their memories in a split second. There’s a photographic camera in an Italian camera. There’s happiness, and the bitter-sweet taste of a veiled tomorrow.

by Stefania Tagliabue and E.G.L.

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