piątek, 14 września 2012

Cho Lon..

I told him that I want to write, more than anything, just that, nothing else.
He's jealous.
No answer, just a quick look..
 I'll be ready to leave first..
I have to wait a few years befoer he lose me.
Sea, elusive in its shape, simply unparalleled.
Bustle of the city is very strong in my memory like sound too loud movie, sound that stuns.
I remember, we don't talk, the room is dark, immersed in a constant bustle of the city, anchored in the city, whose fragrance we breathe..

 It is a city of pleasure, which fully rising at night. And the night starts now, with the sunset.
The smell of the caramel permeates the room , roasted nuts from won, exotic sauces, roasted meats, herbs, incense, burning wood, dust.

It's right here for me to survive the longest time, minion time, right here, nowhere else.
It is a place where it is difficult to breathe, bordering with death, the place of violence, pain, despair, dishonor, pleasure, holiness.
This is a place in the Cho Lon,on  the other side of the Mekong where the river exceeds the time ....

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