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  • I am in Berlin in an altbau in Prenzlauer Berg. Everything is white. The walls. The dining table. The lamp. The sheets of my bed. A lobotomy of monotones.

    But outside my window. Buds. Green. Whispers of awakening. The weather here is moody. Sometimes quicksilver. Gray clouds. Muffled colors. And then a knife of blue will slash across the sky.

    By the lake. Stephan and I. Near Charlettonburg. We wander. Chestnut trees. Sycamores. Oaks.

    A white swan gliding in a lake black as truffle oil.

    Stephan is telling me about Munich. How I must visit the alps. Very different from Berlin. This is where he is from. His family. I imagine beer gardens. I imagine the Sound of Music (wait that was Austria, not Bavaria).

    Berlin can be gritty, but where i live is full of families, children, gaggles of little blondness, mothers with SUV size strollers. The farmers market. The bread. The cheese. Blueberries.

    Oh yes, the sex tourism part. I did return to Berghain. I did follow the maze into the dark room, where men conglomerate into a writhing mass of arms and legs, and pricks, a giant human/octopus, but i soon left, there was something so mechanical about the sex, yes, it was arousing, the ginger-bearded viking, and the feel of his lips, sweet, sweet, like blueberries.

    But I prefer walking with Stephan. The swan gliding. The lake so black. Here. Stephan kisses me.
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