Cause when I’m with him, I’m surrounded by symphonies. When he talks to me, I’m just hearing melodies. And every time his sitting next to me is a sweet violin in my ear. Time starts to run faster, as if he wanted me to let go. I know time is just jealous of me winning the race. I have known people who creates symphony, people who makes music an endless harmony. But since I know him I’ve never need any other sound than his laughter echoing in my mind.
A careless symphony every time he whispers in my ear. A perfect violin talking to me. The drums when he laughs, a trumpet when he cries and a piano when he’s singing. Without any hurry. I just see jealousy in time’s sight because he know he can’t end my constant thoughts, the times I can see his smile in my dreams or the times I play that track in my mind. I know time just wants me to let go but he know I won’t. Because I don’t need any other sound than his voice echoing in my mind. Nor the piano, nor the drums, nor the sweetest guitar on Earth. There’s not an instrument which compares.
All the orchestra playing in his gaze.
Creating a perfect, maybe careless, timeless harmony.
The cat with the yarn, the gray cat that only has to worry on catching his little toy. Just look out the window and see him play unaware of the rest of the world, under a spell. I wish I could be like that cat that once existed and accompanied me through my stormy days, without rain, without going backwards. Just focused on his yarn, as if nothing else exists. The spell of the yarn is nothing he can avoid, unable to look anywhere else than his precious object. Just can’t be away from it, can’t let go even for a minute. That cat doesn’t pay attention to the cars that pass near him, the yarn has rolled into the street and he tries to catch it, until everything for the little cat disappears.
Except for his yarn, the only object he will chase forever. Go on, my little cat! Until time stops you, but I know it never will because there is no obstacle for you. He would go until the end of time, until the stars fall from the sky. I’ll miss that cat, since I gave him the yarn he spent his days near my house playing with. That’s what makes you happy and someday you’ll catch it. Sometimes I see the gray cat with the yarn in my dreams, his whitish ghost playing with the yarn in my living room at nights, I’ll never forget him. His yarn, his entire world.
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