VALESKA NOEMI

He was lying there facing the ceiling. She hoped it would reflect his beauty for him to internalize only one leaf of a daffodil. but his lips just wouldn’t form the smile she knew he couldn’t hide if the white wall showed what she imagined. can any change be organic? or is the aim of becoming anyone a sickness itself? she thought the good person was an ancient artefact misunderstood by the romantic comedies that list morale next to perfection and love at first sight. beneath all realism she feared he might like this myth, making any failure reasonable. but she really needed this intelligent, strong human to enjoy his conscious as the proof of humanity. if he only deserved bliss after becoming this good person, she and all her naiv ideals might not deserve him. could he smell how she was breaking their unspoken pact? her irrelevant skin, that was trying to find a meaning in his touch? but underneath his body she was acting out the stable one. the one fearlessly facing her changes and not admitting her empty ruins in this very present. the remains left for future restaurations. she tried to give sense to these bricks of her body by building the most comfortable pillow out of her chest. allowing him to rest all the weight he holds on to. her legs shielding him from the penance that seemed to eagerly keep him from all necessary contempt. there must be such thing as collectively imagined solidarity to those who failed. a sense of forgiveness allowing his ego to seek such banale thing as morale again. she thought maybe, if she exhaled deeply, her chest could surround his thoughts and create a vacuum making him focus on all his virtues. shaping a ruin made of bliss around his body like a fragile castle. melting herself down into all his disbelief and cure him from his ideals with her insecurity. made with Lay Theme