Dolce guilt

Easter is over and babbo is home again. He woke me up this morning, coming into my room smelling of cool air and Eau Sauvage, still in his overcoat. He kissed me on the cheek and placed a pink paper box beside me. Open it when you're fully awake he whispered and silently walked out. As a child I was always happy when he came home with precious gifts he had bought on his business trips, but nowadays I always get a weird ambivalent feeling from it. I'm still thankful, but I think he does it mostly out of guilt over leaving me so often. I guess it means that he loves me and wishes he could spend more time at home, but if he actually did it would be worth more than any haute couture piece in the world.

I went back to sleep a little later, hugging my new pearl white Dolce&Gabbana cashmere sweater. 


  1. Hii thanks for commenting. I love Robert McDowell's poetry. When I read his poems, I see it. I see his words. I aspire to do that with my own writing some day.

  2. You're a very talented writer. And the motif of your blog is beautiful!

  3. Hiii!! wooo I like your blog it´s very interesting. I´m glad that you like my blog, Now I follow you. kiss ;)

  4. you write incredibly well! Subscribed :)


  5. Seu cantinho é lindo!

    mas, é meio dificil para acompanhar. A tradução do 'google translate' é pessima e não falo/leio/escrevo inglês. rsrsrs

    obrigada por visitar o Alices, volte sempre.

  6. you're writing is amazing!


  7. your blog is awesome, i am following you