Alina Manole

You were living in the day when the light thinned the sky, as the equinox drew out the autumn flight of birds. I wrote your name and you drifted away, the light slid over the letters, silence

we'll survive, you said last summer, back then, the world was still full of people, of someone's parents and someone's grandparents, the world was full of unborn children and due dates, of

when I was in seventh grade in Geography and the teacher told us about the only country as a subcontinent and I didn't understand too much but it seemed great to me to have such a country when we

my people my beings they are my daily God so my God wears fur, sharp ears and comes in my arms leaving me there, for a moment so much love, a flea, and a few hair my God is the dog his

I've never been there I imagine those happenings where bright and vague little beings are moving randomly behind each name like in a fairy tale I would write for Aisha's childhood a fairy tale

Writing on value-based medicine reading about your values about your mountains your life your new life listening to the same and the same song looking for that touching thing daily reminding me

like the clouds growing from the ground there is a fog between our friendships a fog that makes us disappear me, then you, disappearing then returning to the same place where the sun is always

men are weird one used to talked about s.x and other stuff like that other about fake wisdom and other stuff like that another one about sky constellations and speed of light and all this seemed

1 people, I mean men, used to come into my life and to tell me they liked certain classical books or they did not remember titles or instead of books they used to tell me they liked movies

vivre une vie entière avec quelqu\'un à partir d\'aujourd-hui quelle idée, je me demande si j\'aimerais mourir dans ses bras sans avoir honte de le faire, comme un dernier travail bien

with unchained fingers teachers could show us punctuation of a future love but I across orange roads glow over the world circus * life floats certainly awake time is elsewhere anything

alone constant empty waiting for a vacant time when dreams are not remembered remember when god tries to find them paths are always onto the tenth violet tree turning the point when

As-tu jamais desire quelqu\'un tant que ta peau devienne, trop tard, ta propre couche?