i told the Alps

that I love you.
I knelt in the snow, breathing in the crisp air and the magnificent view, and let the Universe know (for a gazillionth of time) that I... Simply... Love you.
It was a day I could actually see more than two feet further from my nose.
Much appreciated.


There’s certain beauty in chaos - howling wind and biting temperatures – only when appropriately dressed. I was; and I wasn’t. Like with all things in life.


I went up the mountain thinking of you and I came down thinking of the ascent. What a relief.

I took that turn. On my toes at a 75 degree angle. Then I swapped over, and took another 75 degrees on my heels. And I could not see a thing. Just the wind howling.
Funny thing, our bodies. Mine is a good little vessel.
If only I knew where I was heading.
I have a cold sore on my lips and a frost-bitten nose.
I’ve roughed it up just lately.

get home safe

I don’t remember if we held hands. I hope we were at some point. Because it was a wonderful night, and we should have. We should have. We had had a nice dinner. And we were having a good long conversation whereas we were not talking past each other.

Money was running tight. So we walked the hour, west to east. 110st to 89st. We made a L-shape route around the edge of Central Park, surreally alive and loud with wildlife – insects and birds. The homeless were settling down to claimed park benches. Ready for the night.

We walked past a fighting gay couple and two homeless guys. One of them, all ragged, looked at us long and hard, and said – „You get home safe!“.

I'm not afraid, all is forgiven

I would take the car down main street Rincón to a certain payphone, and I would hunt for a certain kind of phone card. I would get there in the 40 C heat and dial your number. And try to be close to you. I would sit down on the dirty sidewalk, holding the receiver. Listening. I loved your voice, and the femininity of it.
I would miss every single spectacular sunset, described in the Lonely Planet, to talk to you. I gladly did.


Again and again over the years I would listen to you babbling on and thinking; „God, how I love your voice“. And then you would laugh out.
And I used to love that too...