Re: Exhibit 5 - The Cities We Are In

(exhibit 5)

I am smiling and so are you.

When we met, I was a doodler drawing things at whim. You had on a pair of Converse. Our instant attraction was electrified by the fireworks in the background. Your crazy drunk friend puked on our shoes as we talked, face-to-face and at a distance, as if enjoying the current pulsating between us.

We made love in the car parked beside a lonely streetlight.

In bed, before we sleep, our conversations magnified the very souls of ourselves. You would curl my hair around your fingers, burying your face into them like a pile of fresh laundry or new clothes or a dog slobbering. You love my hair up, hair down, hair wet, in a frizz, curled in a bun, curled around your face, curled around our cats. In return I would curl up inside you - spooning - spooning, swooning, swooning... into a peaceful slumber.

Our fights are as fiery as the fireworks (the night we met). You shout - because you hardly voice out - and I smash things and purses, and hands (on the dashboard) and then sob uncontrollably. We would end the fight in a resigned state -

We make love in the car parked beside a lonely streetlight.

I am smiling and you are smiling.
We are so far from each other.

It is cold where I am, foreign, and smells weird. At night I smoke by the window, looking down at miniature people buying miniature papers and hauling miniature groceries on their miniature bicycles. My German is getting better -

Ich bin einsam ohne dich