So please, you always were so free, you’ll see, I promise we’ll be perfect. Perfect strangers when we meet. Strangers on the street. Lovers while we meet.
Okay, here it is, your choice… it’s simple, her or me, and I’m sure she is really great. But Derek, I love you, in a really, really big pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head outside your window, unfortunate way that makes me hate you, love you. So pick me, choose me, love me.
Waiting for the Christmas atmosphere, perhaps in another city. Hot chocolate in one hand, one hand in hand. The hat protects from the cold, repairs the bad thoughts, suspended in an infinite time. And he smiles, looking at places that do not know, photographing moments that seem perfect, with the hope that nothing is fleeting and that our heart still continues to fly as it is doing now.
