Even just imagining your way of talking calms me. And makes me happy. It runs through my body like medicine, making you gurgle within me. Don't stop. Don't ever stop.
We have again touched ourselves, looking in the eyes. A direct and calm look, very simple, taking into consideration the embarrassment that usually is created in similar situations. Simple like the kiss that you give to a child when it comes to show you a wound. The heart breaks to the thought that an adult can be looked like this. [...] We would want to separate but we are not able, and in both eyes other frames of find open in depth. I think how a similar moment reminds me the moment of the tragedy, after which nothing will be the same. And we, faint, grab one to another in order not to fall and we see, with strange and sad lucidity, our history. [...] From the moment in which I have begun to write you, the words are gushed out by an absolutely new point, as if a seed was set aside only for a specific beloved.
And the incredible thing is that I've seen how you run away without moving from your place, taking advantage of that temporary distraction in order to disappear.
But I was still free, meaning that I was free to be mistaken.
Although within me you exist in a way that terrifies me.
"Here I am, in front of you," you wrote. Yes You know, sometimes I'm a little 'slow to understand. At first reading I thought you were giving me your clothes to hide my nakedness. But such idea doesn't suit you, on the contrary. Then I thought it was an act of seduction, original, bizarre, a little ridiculous and clumsy: an oral strip-tease. And little by little the tone of your voice has changed. Here is a nudity, you say (or at least, as I understand it now), that it's not like a knife and it is not like a wound. A revealed and vulnerable nudity, a little embarrassed and compassionate. Exactly like yours. Look, you say, it's a bit shy and it tries to hide his flaws with a lot of little tricks, which, however, is willing to give up, for those who want to look at her with indulgent eyes. It uses clothes (do you say that?), of shirts, dresses, bras, belts, as well as humans use words, "theirs". But come, touch, feel; it is a nudity that can also heal.
You know, sometimes, whilst I'm writing to you, I feel a strange sensation, completely physical, as if before being able to speak to you I had to see the words abandon me in a long line before getting to you, and deliver themselves to your hands.