There is where I found the young friends
The architecture of the first encounters with decadence
characters unique in their dubious makeup old and young
but very outcast drunk or stoned dark humid narrow places
stinking of vomit and piss next to Pilistras and other plants
out of balconies that seem caves.
Buildings are almost crushing each other in the face with white
sheets blowing against the other like licking dampness
covering the shadows of people that are coming from intense
sexual encounters up there going to finally sleep at home
just down there.
Cats scruffy and bloody after a whole night of horny fighting
The dim light on the cafe just opened and fuet hang from the walls.
Dawn melting with the next Sunset between dreams.
One day go to life painting classes next day just draw the
last whore who was with you for free in bed because you were so young and
your skin so soft.
After having sex with her forever orgasms draining of your
fluids that kept you awake and now want you to paint it.
Hours and hours hanging out with him that is your best friend
talking constructing the world at your will Princes of the future down
these little paths of humid fresh shadows and cut-up like skylines.
Green green or amber sweet-sour drink like anisette that takes your soul
so far and urgently drawing with such little light and shaping faces bodies
streets and the face of your friend your dear friend with whom
you share dreams of traveling far and of going to Meca
where more alcohol and opened women's flowers are waiting laying in
velvet chaise long caressing white cats.
Cabarets, cafes, the same ones every day the same route
the same windows and women trapping times to keep doing it.
But more drowning in drawings inks and oils different of every each one
a world that only you can create can see and produce at your wish.
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