Structo issue 14

Page 16


Lots of things about you and about us together have faded: the days go by like hands which have ceased their caressing. I don’t really know who you are, now, nor what we used to tell each other those evenings amid the smoke of so many bubbling hookahs in the open-air cafés. I got drunk just seeing you, and playing chess was an excuse for watching your fingers moving the pieces of your army towards me. How sweet it can sometimes turn out to be, being defeated: on the board your castle knocking over my king. Many nights you lined up your pawns to face me.


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