Inner voice ( on the phone):
My darling, how is doing my sweetheart,
I am your little pumpkin flying on wings of love.
Dreaming of landing soon to have dinner with my sugar apple..
No, I am not calling from jail!
Speaking about dinner. ..
This how I met my beautiful poetess..
Don't know what I was thinking that day reading her first poem..
Memories appears in the air, like vision.
Poem number one.
(Inner voice talking to himself.
Who writes like this?
One hundred seventy pages, that's easy,
Poems born on the streets ..).
Kitchen, husband and wife are having dinner
(Inner voice: how nice!)
...Husband: what a fuck is it?
Wife: chicken!
Husband: Why is it fucking alive?!
Wife: Why don't you fucking cook!
Here, take your stupid cook book.
(Throws the book at him)
Your birthday gift!
(Inner voice: She got a birthday gift,
He must loves her,
Love poems are my speciality, been married eight times.. officially.
Husband: Come here!
Wife: Come in your pants!
Husband ( thinking which one of two words that starts at letter "b" he knows for women to use.
His own inner voice is thinking now,
Father in law is in military,
Yes daddy!
Everything else considers a reason to run away,
Grandmother with three bulldogs,
Stepbrother is a businessman,
Mother in law..
Own inner voice:... not gonna make it..
Husband: Beautiful!
(Inner voice wiping tears of joy).
Wife: let's go watch my favourite movies
( She is easy going, after few years)
Inner voice: how romantic, pained picture with words,
Small city, innocent people,
Calling to the author..
