In some days her love is like a chamomile tea...
she make him relaxed, feel melted, peaceful.
In days like this they spend the day in bed –
kissing and caressing, hugging observing their peaceful faces and bodies.
Listening to nice music. Sometimes he will stand up and play piano for her,
while she, naked in bed observing him secretly,
with her eyes touching his skin, looking very concentrate how every muscle of his arms and beck in moving while he is playing.
In the old house full with ghosts, with old pictures on the walls that observed the naked girl in the bed and the boy playing piano… A melody of his far away country. Melody that brings him home in happy days, far away from that strangers house, that foreigner country, far away of that girl in the bed that he don't know what to do with.
His music is a bridge between countries, between languages, nations, religions… is a way to escape, to be back where he wants to be.
The music is a door he opens for her to follow him, is an invit ...