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mardi 2 juin 2015



Who is that I long for?
She has no face
But a force that makes you remember.
The face in the emptiness of my heart
I want to tell you that I love you,
But who are you?
Why this distance?
I know that you no longer talk about me
It is I who has the nostalgia
The distance has swallowed all that love
In the darkness of your absence
I imagine and wonder what you are doing?
In Melbourne,
Or was it Tehran?
In Oslo?
That exists in memory alone
But the force tugs at my heart
Do you think the comforts of distance
Takes away the longings?
That tug at the heart
Under distance stormy clouds
Who can take away those moments?
Just us alone
Having lived that moment
I must go on living
With tears in my heart
You, the person with no face
I have to let you go
The heart searches, tears obscure the view and you are gone.
Why you arrive now? As I cross Amazonia .      
I needed you more than you did me
I did not let you know
That inequality destroyed us
That collected tenderness now appears everywhere
So, it is not a loss
I look deeply at their lips
Have I not kissed you before?
I miss that passion
Kisses in moving trains, stationary air
The silence of spaces
I recollect
I feel the pain
Flying over this vast jungle, where they know creation never ends
(a nice glass of white wine, AA 777-300, and an attentive male flight attendant and listening to Simone)
The spirits ask me
Why are you thinking of her?
The collector of tenderness
That bakery of affections
Why at this moment
Why are you thinking of her?
The other passengers may wonder
Why a grown up man is crying?
So copiously
You, the professor of anthropology
Who can analyze the other person and their thinking?)
Let these thoughts
Carried through memories and songs
To a love that departed
A long time ago
That departure does not reside in a place.