ביום חמישי אחרי ביצפר אני נוסעת לדוסלדורף (גרמניה) עד יום שבת בערב.

משהו של ביצפר. עם עוד 2 בנות מהשכבה. ומחר כל כיתת דרמה נוסעים ללונדון עד יום ראשון.

ובינתיים יש עומס.

עצבים בלבול פאק שיט שנאה כעס אהבה כמעט לא אולי מחר? זמן כן לא כן לא שקט פחדן פחדנית כולם לבד רוצה לא-רוצה דממה צעקות שמחה דמעה כמעט. לישון. בהחלט.

A hesitant stare, a gentle breeze

Flowing through you in curious lavishness

 - While you play - like you used to back in the day

.With your fingers crossed and you heart at ease

The smell of oranges and pining hearts

Swimming in the oceans of the wine you once drank

.With her on your balcony

 - And now - decades past and seasons changed

My feelings contrast with the scenery

,While I drink my habitual morning coffee

.I remember it all and my lips clench

With an anxious grin and a praetorian air she walked the fog-filled streets. She always knew how to balance herself in an admirable fashion.

But today she is exposed; lying between the flowers and the beige satin, her eyes closed and her face unpainted, the veiled contempt towards the world has disappeared. She is no longer cynical, nor in love. The truth is that her chest was carved and sutured, now inconspicuous, camouflaged as she always was. The man with the knife ran away into the glamorous twilight fog.

“Graham?”

An audible pause gives way to staring eyes.

“Graham, say goodbye”.