Your eyes and the sound of rain from the busy roof.
I sat and listened to the blue, blue sky, the laundry and the pigeons, seagulls, swallows (were they really swallows?). I try to draw your radiant eyes in my sentences. I love to wake up and see you wake up. In the lips and in the skin. It was only the sense of wind, of sand, of darkness, of the distant functions of my body, the quiet (that was never quiet).