Written by Jacob Ibrag
‘Split a cab?’ No harm in sharing, but
that’s not where it ended. Six months later,
we’re splitting a bed. You’re on the edge of it,
scribbling little notes in your black moleskin.
Wondering what you’re transcribing. You’re
the red sun burning the inquiring side of me.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ you whisper as
your smile devours my attention. ‘Close your
eyes.’ You take my hand and place it upon your
beating chest. ‘You’re the source of this. I’ll
try to describe it, yet I never can. My perfect
anomaly. My reason to draw breath.’
Photography by Melania Brescia