Translation from Bosnian by Elizabeta Bakovska
Once you told me that I looked like the rain. Marc Sandman came to my thoughts with his bass guitar and its two strings. Sometimes the two strings are everything that we need. Sandman, just as me, spent some time in Middle America, and then he descended to South America. My South America will wait for a while. Maybe I arrived too late to Middle America to continue the travel.
The summer and dust, in some other story, would be a winning combination. The music lives within us soaked in the memories that we left behind long ago. It does not want to have any relation to leaving. Morpheus is not on my side tonight. But Morphine is.
I changed my third shirt. There has been less than an hour. Managua, where I live at the moment, is mostly like that. The summer never ends, and the humidity in the air enables the fish to enter through the window. The tree bark and soil have cracked, and everything turns into dust.