12 June 2008. Summer sun. Ying's face at pool, intelligent, intentionally impassive. Use as few syllables as possible, yet always be present.
A present. Flowers, as an example, offered in the freest of spirits--white, lavender, midnight blue, freesias on a sea of green. In a single glass vase, set on a wooden table. Instantly at home...
A bottle of Tío Pepe, from some decades back. Warsaw, Amseterdam, que se yo. Tucked into a backpack, and produced in a flash--as if the world might revolve around such gestures of immediacy. The ones that can be lost, as well--as in all the songs...
Si la tortolita llora
porque le han quitado el nido,
cómo no he de llorar yo,
si me quitas lo que es mío
Cómo no he de llorar yo,
si me quitas lo que es mío.
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