Raffaella Ciavatta

From a steamy window
I watch
singular couples
open & close their mouths.
To eat.

I hear what they say:
the clinking of silverware.
I feel what they feel:
medium rare emotions.

I wish I were 30:
the age I dream I'll
be a successful artist
to the rest of the world
(and to myself),
I will have my own
apartment, actually
it will be the era I will
use our more than anything.
So our apartment.
I would definitely love
to share my space
with my soul mate.

Sharing is one of
my many qualities:
hey, would you like some gum?
would like some of my dish?
Do you want to borrow this book?
Of course I can share my time with you!
My heart? Yes, I'll share that!
My mind? Yes! I'm getting excited here!
My soul? Without hesitation!
My whole being? Yes, yes, yes!

And all that to whom?
To broad, high-definition,
high-speed connections
we eagerly make
on a subway rides and
dare to call them connections?
Are you fucking kidding me?

But hey, by the time I'm 30,
I will have known better.
I will not connect on subways.

That means today I have
approximately 4 years and
2 months
to 1 be as famous as Picasso,
2 meet a woman who will first
be my friend then will magically
become the most amazing lover
I’ve ever had and right before
I turn 30 will use our like never before.

All of that in 4 years and 2 months.



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