On TV, the weather women I secretly love,
said it was 22 degree Celsius outside and
a beautiful evening. She smiled and winked,
knew I was admiring her.
She left and gave room to world news read
by a man in suit and tie; he read about
disheartening news and an Arab spring that
is turning into a military dictatorship.
The weather woman walked home, turned
on the TV and tried to see me, but I was on
the terrace watching the stars and I had, in
my distraction, forgotten her.
