First, we quickly unpacked stuff
and exchanged gifts.
Books, notebooks, finer pens, sundries.
Then we took food
and fed each other by fingers.
I always trick You to eat a bit more.
" It’s a fraud " you say.
Your sandwich is "Mediterranean".
From the quilts we make a tent
And stare at each other.
Embraced.

In the evening we are drinking beer and seek some nose drops.
We would like to see a good sci-fi, or a horror movie
but the program is mostly *******.

"You see, they live in the center of Beverly Hills,
Downtow, in the circle of main City trams
and for half an hour You don’t  realize what is happening.
The industry push them from a young age. "
We turn the TV off.

½ tucked
¾ tucked.
Utterly tucked.
Cocooned.

Hey.
  
   - Hey.

- Do You want me to tell you a story?

- The story?

- The story of two people who met and the first intimacy they shared was her need for someone to be there, until she falls asleep…

- A story with a magical Byzantine ring and the flat tire?

- Yes ... And they didn't even know each other when he put her to sleep for the first time.

- When they met he wouldn’t leave the room until he brought her to ****** and until he drank all the alcohol out of the room?

- Nor did she ... In the morning. They skipped the the breakfast.

- Yes, I'm familiar with this story…

- These two people are all in details. To them the important things are; this rejoices him; I'm starting to get to know her; I think he feels me. Details, such are wooden windows and ocher curtains. And this room is important to them, which is dead, dead all the time, except for that one day in the month, when they bring to life every inch of it.

- And a bathroom is heated while quilt is stealing socks?

- Everyone wants a bigger, more luxurious rooms, price is the same. Only this two people want a tiny room number five. With their mirror and unnecessary pillows. This two people, they are not logical to anyone. They don’t want to be. They don’t want anyone to understand, justify or approves or not. They have each other and the room number five.
Written down or not, it's a good story...

- I think we'll title it "Room number five."

- Even if it remains only our story, unwritten, I find it beautiful. Because it's real.

And this kind of stories are the most miraculous one.

You say that you are contentment
while You warm yourself up
tucked next to my heart
and that I sleep largely peaceful,
rarely snore, and that I do not toss and turn endlessly.
But tonight , tonight for the first time, I talked in my sleep
I was mumbling, leaning against your back

You said, that it was rather beautiful
The true, real me, the unconscious me
the core of me that you love
the magic essence of (my) being.

In the morning You make coffee
and hum in the bathroom.
Our afternoons and our morning
the string that conjoin them
the light in the mist of life.

We are at the concert.
We sit. We drink.
Fight broke out. Close by.
Kids.
The skinheads, metalheads, punks.

Local madman approach us.
He speaks to me:
"I saw the devil, ****!
I saw hiiiim !!! "

"O really? I saw him also, yesterday,
when I watched
TV news. "

We give him a beer.
He's leaving.

**** it, we are all lacking so little love
a couple steps toward each other
just a few steps
but it's not happening
and eventually the devil comes

He does nothing special
He's only filling
The void.

Girl
I know
with your cosimic eyes
you communicate with trees
in crystal peaceful manner.

They want you
to teach them
how to master
feline telepathy
Yes, I feel much salty sounds
muffled moaning
at the dawn of bitterness.

Girl
Thee, who is riding on the sparkling rails
on the railway of madness
chaos, water lilies and fear
in a ****** taste of chocolate.

Girl
Flesh and monsoons
are around you
cut yourself out from that
repulsive storie
when you ignite your
sixth sense.

Girl
Windswept carnal
With unfettered spirit
you don't know where you are now
and I don't know where you'll be tomorrow
but please , convey me whisper of the sea
for me to keep it
in stillness of a
dream.

Awakening at 06:30.
Make the bed in a hurry, wash Your face.
Get ready.
You are at work at 07:30.
It's not a great job, but you don't have another.
Try not to be late.
Insert the card, sign yourself in book of arrivals.
Say “hallo” to colleagues.
When You arrive, drink your coffee.
Struggle like others, you're not the only slave.
Pay attention for  a lunch break. Eat something.
Manage out for a couple of aspirins.
**** it up. They own You till  15:30.
Have lunch. Take a bath.
Play up your favorite video game.
Empty up, kick *** of some bad guys.
Reply to a text message from your girlfriend.
Make some plans for a weekend.
Not every weekend is going to be free.
Do not neglect art.
Work on the story.
Write down a few sentences.
Lie down a bit.
Close your eyes. Open them.
Read.
A friend have borrowed You a book.
Take some bite to eat.
At 21:05 play some movie.
Betty Blue, or Barton Fink.
At 23:40 You are already soundly asleep.
You made it…?
Dream.

And I'll wait for you.
You will park your car on that same, our  place.
You will be late. I will always understand.
And I will never be angry.
You know that.
And I will kiss you until the Purple candles burns out
And while the phone battery withstand.
You will talk and I will keep mine palm on your forehead.
I'll tell you stories when You dive in me.
You'll ask me what I'm thinking.
Attracting of the souls and suffering.
You drape yourself with blanket and light up a cigarette.
You were wrathful by my uncertainty.
It's chilly.
We open a can of beer.
It is difficult to cope with fear.
Don't be scared, everyone is afraid.
You ask me what I want, Ameli.
I want to lie down and be silent
Until you turn to me and whisper "love me"
Until the pillow is lost on the floor.
At dawn I open the window.
You give me a toothpaste and take me to the sandwiches.
You'll ask me if all of this was important.
And we both know
That it was.