Image-inspired Freewrite: "Alicia & Oz", by bonzopoe

I always sensed that her face was a mask behind which she was hiding. That behind that impassive face of hers lay all her multiplicities, all possible tangents to the circle, all her identities waiting to be revealed, to be discovered by the right person.

One day I saw, hidden in her hair, a furtive glance. Another, a whisper came from her earlobe. And another one while she rested her head on my shoulder I watched as she would open slightly to the rhythm of the wind, and like a trunk of wonders it was full of alices looking for her yellow path.

Today, years later, I have become his Oz without realizing it, and we have painted the yellow path of melancholy blue, cloud blue, water blue in which life is born.

And we have put inside it the mask behind which she lived, so now the trunk floats adrift in a sea of ​​alices from which our fantasies, our sunrises and our surreal afternoons brew, when she lets me slip into the trunk through her smile, and we snuggle, and in silence we dream together some other story to invent.

Thank you very much for reading this post and dedicating a moment of your time. Until next time and remember to leave a comment.