You Say: the Eclipse

A story about a poet, his girlfriend and their pretty complicated relationship (5) Kurtistani; aab, cddceec, ffb You say, imagination is a locus and breeding ground for the scribblecoccus bacteria that kill relationships. It's true, my dear, my imagination can do a lot, let say, look down a dress or an abyss of cosmos, fluoresce in infrared light, flash with a citation of fictional philosopher, invent a new poetics, but it isn't meant for you and your incoming incarnation. At last, love seems to be an act of nature but just an I.O.U or a debenture - the noon, the sudden twilight, the eclipse.