It comes from a yellow embroidered tent, from closed curtains.
a weightless scent of olive oil. That twirls and fills the air.
Inside … a man of the desert. Nomadic nature, wise heart .
He is so tall and impressive with his almond eyes,with his almond smell…
The people outside waits and wants for one part of him.
The wise man, is reluctant. He has afraid. He has died for it before and returned to improve the perfect dose …Not too much love, not too much apple…
Men dont accept high amounts of love .
The more he moves making his potion , more intoxicating he becomes. And the air around transformes itself in a irresistible scent.
He has to stop. He dont know but i know…
I am outside, with my potion in hands, that prevents me to attack him, so i am just watching how the people act. I feel the danger in the air.
He lives alone and in a thousand places to avoid people to follow him.
He has the love potion .The power to cure the world.
i see men in ties, women in hysteria.
I heard cries and pleas.
and the wise man in gold appears
a sweet smile on his lips
and the immediate future
some tears dropping on his face….
just sealing his fate
He released the scent of the love from his hand.
People started to act as crazy. They dont know who to love or who to desire….
who they will rip in pieces
He remains stand and knowing that he failed
“Men dont deserve high amounts of love”
I jumped to his side and said:
Not too much love, my love, not with too much love
and i released the scent of apple….
And the mob, maddened
remained at the middle of the way.
And as quickly as possible. I took the bottle on his hand
impatient , as i am, I mixed the both and we inhaled the scent
and i shouted with joy
Now we are rich! we are rich!
And he did not understand until these days.