A Poignant Bliss

I leaf again and again through these miserable memories, and keep asking myself, was it then, in the glitter of that remote period, that the rift in my life began; or was my excessive desire for that child only the first evidence of an inherent singularity? I will take my memories with me. In a certain magic and fateful way, I had caught glimpses of an incomparably more poignant bliss.

much love,
Rino Aiigo

The High-priced Damaged Art

We can't erase what was already written or drawn, we can't take back what was sang and said. Old friend, when our days were lived so separately and so apart, after a year or two we finally got each other out of our minds. Some sort of burial was done, quite hasty, quite dusty and quite carelessly. Ten years later, here we are again.. A beginning to something which never actually end. Our lives are now drawn on such major diversity the only connecting parts are our past. The hush-hush ten years ago — the little 'me' you know – and towards you were just an image of a boy whose face resting on his hand looking distantly out west.

Maybe you've been — to the place you were searching for but found not what you were pinning for — and back you are now, I wondered so constantly what you've seen and how you've felt. I guess so that the mystery goes both ways. Perhaps you now find me not who you are expecting to find too. The rough waves have its power to break something beyond recognition. But made a hell of damaged twigs in two person. Ha-ha, but damaged twigs make one hell of an artwork. The most expensive kind.

You have a beautiful nose. I couldn't stop gazing. But you know what the heart says?

A glance is too long, and a gaze is too short.

In-between, and there is no in-between. If there is, it's just the distance between us lips to lips. And the dreams lies in the exhalations of our sighs.

much love,
Rino Aiigo