The tent
Recupero this text, I wrote when I realized that the morning had lost some of its charm (or, less discreetly, some mornings the sheet was no longer a tent)
Sugar Loaf in Morocco
Sugar
This morning when I woke up I realized that I no longer accompanied by his presence. It was not a sudden disappearance, a sudden death, but rather had been a mild fall apart, Sugarloaf bitten, strong and hard at first on the tongue, gently dissolving, edges, each of them maintaining the consistency of the original fragment, although more rounded, smoothed by time, pulverized fragments between the teeth, more and more small, impalpable eventually leaving only its flavor as a souvenir.
Since I was aware of my own life, from my earliest youth I remembered there, dozing beside me on the sunrise, when consciousness is slowly opening the senses to the sounds of the house, the smell of toast and coffee, the sun filtering between shutters.
She always appeared before I knew it, quiet, silent. My body was still lost in sleep, who first noticed his presence, and gently, slowly, my senses took over, and fully aware of their existence. It was annoying, as there are annoying habits, such as not disturbing the inevitable, I was just there, unconcerned, indifferent to whether it was uncomfortable, or inappropriate. Sometimes, of course, its untimeliness, or indifference, took her to wake at midnight, eager, youthful. Then, in a loving doze had to play with her and calm her. Other times I was so asleep when he came that only traces of their presence, discovered in the morning, made me remember your visit.
My co-sleep, no doubt unaccustomed, was surprised at first to my submissive acceptance, my willful ignorance of so intrusive presence, even sometimes interposed between her and me. My words, my remarks addressed to that, she, feigning ignorance were useless. I knew if I got up, ignoring him, you forget, go away quietly and without rancor, assured that the next morning, neither going to miss our appointment. My partner on the other hand, no doubt found guilty, or even charming caster, believing that the visit was due to his mediation, he felt compelled to listen. Then the most innocent beginning, the threat of more hidden hand gesture was enough for me to lose control of the situation, an observer of a brief but intense games.
That morning I realized for the first time, which sometimes was not there. Do not cast even less, of course, I could call it, draw it, even the thought of her was enough to attend, anxious as ever, always faithful, present, willful, and also playful.
This morning when I woke up I realized that I no longer accompanied by his presence.
