Spell

‘He suddenly turned to me and said:
“I had something in my eye but I got it out now.”
And I looked at his eyes but they weren’t red and there was no sign that he’d rubbed them. “How did he get it out? – I wondered. – And what was it?”‘

It’s funny how I still dream of you, even though it’s been a year already. It’s funny how I still think of you and see your face as clearly as it was only yesterday.

I’ve had so many conversations with you, it’s insane. You haven’t even been here. You wasn’t even there, when I spoke to your face.

If I’d asked ‘what would you do, if the world ended tonight’, what would have your answer been?

The conversations were never fulfilled, no matter how badly I wanted to convince myself that they were. No matter what I imagined them to be.

I don’t know why I want to meet you that one last time. It’s probably because I’ve never really had my final word. And I want to say it out loud this time.

I wonder if you’re still out there somewhere because I cursed you so many times, it would be almost impossible not to suffer from a severe internal pain.

I wonder if they left you all alone, as I predicted. Lingering only above the surface to gather the beautifully ripe red strawberries.

I wander if you still think of me because I know you did for a while, after it all collapsed like the tower.

Tell me. Will I ever be able to forget about you? Because for now I find myself constantly passing through the familiar tracks of my memories.

I’m quite certain I saw you the other day, most likely just with the eyes of my imagination, as usual. As always.

Regardless, please tell me, sweetie, what did you have in your eye? And why did you decide to tell me about it?

Was it my spell? Because I’m sure the metal dust is still stuck in your eyes. Blurring your vision of the reality.

It can only mean that, sadly, you got out of my reach. What a shame I cannot work my voodoo on you any longer.