A Forbidden Picture
I am my mother’s son,
and a curious one.
— Pale Young Gentlemen, Marvelous Design
The wind was blowing through the hole in the wall that we used to touch each other hands after a fight.
I was waiting for you, in my best outfit, playing the cello in the middle of the empty room of my mind. I thought you were running late, but at the end, that was just a forbidden picture.