The ballet tattoo. Your signature. Simple, unfinished lines almost made me chuckled. Yet, it draws me most.

September 28th, 2015, 11pm

It was 28°C with few clouds. The breeze was light.

The ballet tattoo. Your signature. The simple, unfinished line almost made me chuckle. Yet, it draws me most…as next to it, another simple line doodled into a pretty little girl. The little child, a blurry little child’s story written on your bare arm glittered by the syrup. Glittering. It was romantic, in a way, only for me. I feel like a little child. A very little child, looking at the sweet sweat clinging to your biceps. . I feel the excitement. In the dark deepest corner of my thought, I found you. Your sanity will kill me but I do not care. Like a sweet little child, I was trapped into your den. You have done this to many different faces and in different times, yet I care not.

Peter said thanks.

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I wander lonely as a cloud

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