Close Your Eyes

She tells me to close my eyes and I do. A Silver Mt. Zion’s Blindblindblind has been playing for what feels like three years, and I let myself sink into her arms. The moment I close my eyes everything rushes in—school, money, love, problems, worries, suffering. But there’s also the blue evening sky over Berlin, stars, the smell of shower gel on her skin.

When I open my eyes it’s getting light outside. Not a solution, I think, getting dressed. Not a solution at all. I leave.