“It’s almost exactly four months”, I tell him.

I try to talk about Monday.

About endings.

But instead I play Nina Simone’s “Don’t smoke in bed”.

And continue:

“Four months is a long time”, I say.

And stroke his hair, listening to Nina playing the piano.

“It’s a sad song”

And he asks me what’s it about.

“It’s about leaving her husband”

I tell him and

He tells me to turn it off.

I want to talk to him about goodbyes.

But instead I watch photos of mountains on Instagram.

And agrees to go for lunch at his mother’s house

Four months is a long time I think and watch him sleep quietly next to me.

I want to talk about endings

But instead I tell him he is the best and worse thing

that happened to me in Brazil.


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