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Tuesday Night Black Ice Cream

Last night I saw Helado Negro

performing his sweet tunes

pouring them like warm oil in my ears

I closed my eyes

without thinking I was back

wherever I would play País Nublado was home

a cold room in the Mexican mountains

one sunny morning in my old Brussels flat

late night bike rides

every time it would mean the start of something

hatching eggs in a warm nest and watching them fly

far away from this cloudy country

goodbye she smiles

find me where summer never ends

I wrote this poem named 'Where summer never ends' three years ago after seeing Helado Negro play live in my hometown in Belgium. Last night he performed in Valencia and his music brought back all the feels. The sweetness, the freedom, the soothing of journeys down Memory Lane, all within the space and time of a song. So grateful for live music, forever my highest high.

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