The blue hour
„Arguing with you, must be love, my love. Recognizing your rage, recognizing the deep deep blue in your anger. You can wear red, it’s your colour, but you don’t fight in it. You scream in waves with whites on top. And i enjoy seeing you attached to what you think is right, or wrong, I like you visiting. And this is me listening, keeping every single word of yours, thinking about them for days, stretching them, and stretching mine, til they find each other, til they meet. We make it work. By waiting. By thinking. By daring. That’s what I love the most, sitting next to you in the car, driving to the bakery miles away, having coffee with you, breathing in, making it work, breathing out.“
