The Morning after 

Breeze woke up, the morning after.

Right as the pink, orange, red, sunray had pampered his left eyelid.

Every piece of his body musculature was aching.

The smell of Salmon -The one[s] he had tried to bring along from the sea- was all over the place-.

Someone had placed a plate full of Onions, Rocca, and Jade next to his bed.

Of course, those where stylishly covered by a handkerchief; initialed N.; or was it an R.

He could not tell.

A big lumpy mass of brown flesh was lying on the floor next to his mattress.

Not exactly next, but, one foot-level, below.

Was it a jackal or…? “Oh my God” it was Demoozi, or his remnants?

Breeze loved Demoozi, he was his childhood friend, felt protected when he was around.

But last night reading Gilgamesh was far more important.

Only Nao and Raheema knew better.

Those entities that he had thought were taken for granted; were the only ones to consider!

Breeze stayed on his the bed.

Was it, mid morning, afternoon, evening, or whenever; who care’s?

Times and places do not change emotions.

“If I am not between your Deltoids, Pectorals or your small hand muscles, I do not, then, give a damn for any other detail.”

“I loved you, we all in the city love you, and continue to do so. Even a little more, more than what you can withstand, more than what you could think, or have thought.”

“If you do not comprehend how much love we have lacked previously, and predicted we might continue to lack, then it could have been the problem that I had not explained myself clearly. Meanwhile, all, those emotions, we had tried to place right into your Jugulars, failed to reach your cortex.”

But your neck, for you, was too precious to yield to us.

“I want to write more but I just can’t.”

The shock had overwhelmed me.

Breeze.

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