You slumbered in the middle of the sea,
with a melancholic smile on your soft face,
You dreamed of pretty things that could not be,
your dreams lulled you away to a strange place
Solitude,
is one feeling,
yet so many,
it is so vulnerable and nude,
silencing peace,
and creating a feud
It was a Summer night with starry skies,
The pale moon peeked timidly though the clouds,
The cool night air lingered with truths and lies,
The stars were glinting through the darkness's shroud.
My eyes flit open, darkness trickles in
The sky is cloudless, dun and without moon,
The wind gurgles, tiptoeing up my skin,
Inhibitions swept away by its tune
My legs, moving faster than my shadow,
the colours in my sweaty hand,
Too far in such a short distance,
like dying before the end of life.
You have found,
the all profound,
my warm tears,
my worst fears
So go ahead,
push me down,
slam my head
onto the ground
I've been sitting on the top of the stairs in my building for approximately three and a half hours. Sometimes I feel like it's the only place in the whole of the universe where I can reflect on things. Reflect, not think. Because I can think almost anywhere, whether it be about the colour of the stain on my new shirt, or the controversial theories regarding evolution, I know how to think.
Read MoreThe foundation of a tear
And the hoarse leaves
Whispering to themselves
Private as a long-forgotten echo
Read MoreLilies gripping slices of the sky
In their honeyed fingers.
The moon-eyed trees shedding their skin
once again.
I went through my life, past my character
All the way to Hell and back
To where I, my own competitor
Could soar through golden fields of black
Always there,
by my side,
spilling secrets,
never lies,
sometimes we laugh,
sometimes we cry,
friends forever,
friends for life
Waves of dizziness
seaglass juxtaposed
on fleeting misery
He was lucid but the expression on his face was thick with blankness. Or maybe it could've been a deep, trifling concentration, a rare investment, If one was to capture it in a photograph of language, it would translate such: eyes slightly narrowed, brows furrowed, the line between them deep and important.
Read MoreClara sortit son carnet bleu et nota : « cet homme assis à ma gauche se moque -t’il de moi ? » Elle noircit son carnet de plusieurs points d’interrogation avant de reposer son crayon. Elle fit glisser son regard vers la table en terrasse où l’inconnu lisait, paisiblement. « Soleil couchant », Faulkner, éditions Folio, le livre qu’elle venait d’achever, l’avant-veille, assise exactement à la même table de café, place Gambetta.
Read MoreA man
in a black waistcoat and polished shoes
A silver pocket watch dangling from bony fingers
and a bouquet of yellow poppies tucked underneath his arm
He looks up and whistles softly
Laughing, taunting,
Push me down
Faces looming,
over ground
On this earth so cruel,
with time I shall duel,
for my life is slipping away,
little by little every day