I, who at this moment have in place of a heart an enamored springtime casting ever more vivid colors through my arteries—sitting on the terrace, back against the wall, eyes closed, a smile on my lips, savoring the sun's warmth on my skin like a lizard—find myself imagining a vast field of poppies dancing in the wind, the nape of my neck resting on the cushion of your breasts, chewing on a blade of grass.
Whenever I feel happy, you return to my thoughts…