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Our dreams: It was supposedly summer …

I fight.

I won and I was defeated at the same time.

Yesterday I saw a dream. If my grandmother was alive she would have decoded it. She would decipher dreams the same way she could see the future in a cup of coffee.

It was summer indeed.

From afar you could hear “Froutopia” .

And I woke up with a gentle sweetness in my heart …

The clock showed five o’clock.

The T-shirt was sticking on my skin.

I went back to bed again. To no avail.

————————————

Only if It was summer …

With blinds ajar.

Wearing just our tank tops, sleeping all together. One on top of each other. Mattresses on the floor.

And I would wonder, how many people can fit in such a tiny home?

 

I would have imaginary dialogues with the cicadas.

With a little slice of watermelon and some feta cheese to cool my soul.

Barefoot.

At home caressed by a breeze coming from seemingly everywhere. With the windows always open.

With the door unlocked. With keys that have been lost for years.

 

At the same spot.

With a few stones to play “eftapetro”.

With a chalk for my broken heart.

Someone to chase after me and someone to look after.

 

Without devices. With the “unwound” TV that would be brought out on to the terrace only for the Olympics, World and European cups.

Completely Drunk from unspeakable joy. Savvopoulos would set the tone:”national team [of Greece] hello!!.”

With vanilla desert in ice water that takes your breath away.

With tomatoes that have this authentic taste, with some cheese and freshly baked bread. To dip into olive oil just like the fingertips touch the water from the faucet … 

A bath with ice cold water, with all the children in a row beside the bathtub.
A sweaty kiss.

A summer without clocks.

With an EPSA lemonade.

With the caps stashed away in our the pockets.

With our bloody knees. Our triumphs.

With a hose. With bits of corn sticking in your teeth.
I wish we were all together.

With no absences.

And we wouldn’ t say anything. It would feel like we were meeting up after a long trip.
On a divan that creaked.

The only thing I am afraid of is not to forget the sound your voice. I repeat its sound to myself.

I cease worrying. I only long for the Sun of the South.

“God never forgot us.” That’s what you would say if you were here.

 

Let’s go.

I can not listen to them anymore.

I don’t want to know anything more. I can not decode anything else. I have put down the blinds.

The soul is in one place, the body is somewhere else.

All our belongings packed into a few pieces of luggage…Our wealth is inside our hearts.


-“I have a plan B”, I said.

-“If it all goes wrong, I will pick a few meters out of our 15,000 km of coastline and I will build a life in the sand”. “Not bad at all for a plan B,” you smiled.

-“We “swim” the problems in saltiness and we dissolve them” I nodded to you.


We are our people..

Tell me when and where?

 

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