To the Queen of Melanesia
It’s Friday. People disappear from my life as if blown by some weekend wind. Things come to an end, and the world stills.
When Friday comes, I know I’ll find myself giving speeches into emptiness, just for the love of it. Because I, the silent girl, can never be silent.
It’s old, paradoxical Friday. I’ve been told I look better when I don’t speak. But as I refuse to do what I’ve been told, I’ll speak whatever comes to my mind. Or write. Or do what I please. Because it’s Friday and I’m all alone in the world. Humankind wants to leave. Since I know they are returning, I do not fret.