She is my souffle…

February 7, 2009

My roommate  is dying to have chocolate souffle, does anyone know a good place in London?


I’m dying to see someone’s face… Pixels on computer screens are no longer satisfying… The photos she sends to my phone are like a swimming pool compared to the atlantic ocean… The pictures on my walls are mere reminders that a lover exists.. But they do not feed the presence, the breath in the room, the toothbrush on the sink, the fact of the matter is she is not here…

Her pictures look back at me…
Mere projections of memories we had together..

Her eyes either wrinkled with laughter, or adorned with grace… But they do not look at me, they simply were looking at the lens of my camera, I am not reflected in them. My happiness and sadness do not change their shape, they do not compensate for her compassion and tenderness. 

I am dying to see her face. To twirl her hair around my finger, to massage her toes…

 I miss you, my souffle

One Response to “She is my souffle…”

  1. wow .. i loved this .. seriously


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