By MARINE JABBOUR

I am not writing a detective novel, although I like to read them

The poison that runs through your veins is a deadly one

I love the black vase

I put it in my room yesterday( hier soir )

I hate my desk when I become its prisoner

I tried to think of you on Monday, I couldn’t

All the colors remind me of e-things: blue: the e-window, yellow: an e-flower – red: my name written with blood

I should think of you for I know you

Which color shall I pick?

I climbed the stairs to say hi

I saw you stroll like a fool

Yea tried to take your vein to pull out the deadly poison

Black Color reflects your image on the vase

Little vase

My Black little vase