What if somebody came from who knows where to draw your life?
If he imagined your eyes, the curve of your shoulders, your way of walking and smiling.
He would have surely used red, to always let you say what you think.
Orange, for those moments when you only want to surrender, to someone else or yourself.
Your uncontrollable madness would surely be yellow while purple would talk about your silences, about those moments when you want to disappear, clench your fists and be alone.
This somebody would probably wear a hat, like this Spanish artist, because you surely were born in the sun, a strong, stinging sun. In the warmth of a cloudless sky, Gaeta’s sky.
So when she asks “Who are you?”, take her on a train. Look at her get on and smile, let her wish to touch your shoulders, sitting across from you. And look at how beautiful she is.
Then straight to Gaeta, like in an adventure. Let the colors speak for you, turning a corner that leaves you breathless.
Let her hold you tight and then bring her between the sand and the sea…
