(My icon couldn't match more)
You entered my life like a bird in an open window, flying around fast (we can't see your wings), leaving my active mind speechless. You crush yourself on the pale surface of the fridge, on the bumps of the suspended stainlessteel ustensils. I try to stop you, you're fooling my life around, you're making such a big mess, and I know that you make me happy even if you're so brand new; because everything is so instant, fresh like dew on the green leaves of the pale trees dried up by the hard July sun and it reminds me of a new flower in a garden, or a close-up in a bird's nest and the feeling egg shells starting to crack up. It feels like a new beggining, but soon I know you'll just find your way back the window, you'll leave me deconstructed. Silently, I will cross my fingers and hope you'll make the mistake of coming through my window again, even though all you left is two broken glasses and a quick dry wind in the kitchen's curtain.