Sometimes

Fading away

Like some golden dust

Scattered

By a wind

Of despair

Fragile

Like the shadow and the light

Of a flickering candle

As robust as

The Mountain's rocks

A mystery

A precious treasure

Hidden deep

In the secret sand

A sacred mirage

A blurred image

Lost there

So powerful

In its

Magnificence

Unattainability

Wrapped up

Around my breast

Sticked to the elementary particles

Of the breath

Right from the burning

Finger tips

Into the wide

Ocean of dreams 

And hopelessness

Belonging to the familiar

Recognition

The incomparable sparkling music

Spreading joy

Upon the green wide, soft

And misty space

Warmth

Bursting out

Into a thousand

Perfect touches

Of beautifully

Blossoming dearth

The eternal return

Constantly moving

From persistent emptiness

Into holy Wholeness

A dream

Loneliness
Of static hours
Of persisting doubts
Watching
The Marble's veins
Spreading
Their silent, cold
Greyish brook
Across the room
Of my wandering 
Thoughts 

I am
Your damned double
Your black fallen angel
Your companion
In adrenalin
And peaceful
Thoughts
Whispers
Of Jealousy
And silence
 
Abandonment

Unreachable
Worshiped

Closed eyes
I see better
Behind
Your eyelids
And mine
Mastering
The jailed
Bliss
Screaming 
In muteness

The pertinent
Persistent
Knowledge

The impossibility

The dream
Suspended

Pleasurable
And free

Borderless

The stubborn 
Absence

Aborted momentums
Wrapped
Upon themselves
The constant
Pleasurable echo
Bouncing 
Against my chest
Filling my belly

The hand
Stirring
The spoon in the coffee cup
A look in the mirror
Precise, slow and daily gestures
Familiar
Dreams
Dressed up
In black and coloured feathers
Struggling with
Everyday's storms
Thinking of
Your thirsty
Lips

The raven in the snow

A lengthy Winter

Stuck on the cold window

The raven in the snow

Courtier of the frostbites

Claws

Greedy and sharp

Conjugating with

The endless cracks

Waving

Smooth black feathers

Like a macabre fan

Starving

Rapacious beaks

Watching

The tilted flamme

Of a distrustful breath

Until

I let it go

The fight

The words to write

The blue ink stream

Screaming

Between the interstices

Bursting into whispers

Of love

Endless crevasses

Of biting coldness

Dancing

On the chessboard

Of my Doubts

What I guess

What I know
What I don't know
What I doubt
What I guess

Who I know
Who I don't know
Who I guess
Who I trust

The ink
Frozen into the pen
Like a compass
In distraught

In a paralytic
Quest of words
A motionless
Contemplation

The precious words to choose
The precious words to tell
Or to keep mute
Gazing at
The certainty
Of the instant

The torpor
Of voluntary
Amnesias
A black veil
Transcended by the dream

The persistent
Incomprehensible
Pounding of
The blood pulse

To go
Beyond
The soft waves
Of cottony thoughts
To race into the fight
To smile
Against the heaviness
Of the anvil

On The Nape Of The Neck

Something

Both delicate and strong

Just there
On the nape of the neck

In the unique

Powerful silence

Of contemplation

Eyes and arms

Around
Meaningful shoulders

Full of sense

And sensual callings

Vanishing
In despair

Anticipating

The salty

Stolen kiss

A land where to travel

A land where to free you

Or enslave you

In a wish

Teasing

The Beauty

Of the moment

Tasting

Infinity
Upon some lips

Of Desire

Reflected in

Never satisfied
Eyes

Love

Licked and lacked

Momentarily postponed

Suspended on a breath

Indefinite duration

Sealed with the blue ink

Of Passion

Curves
Offered

To receive

The painful kiss

The perfect holy sanction

Delivered 

Out of the light

And into

Darkness

A land to explore

Beyond the borders

Of ourselves

Bodies and souls

Transported

Beyond

Good and Evil

A timeless Bliss

Suspended

In its cold and warm

Transcendant 

Waves

Timelessness

The timelessness of things which sometimes reduces the facts to a tiny fraction of a second.Like a flash or a furtive grain of sand gobbled up in the immense ocean of an hourglass in the infinity.
Or sometimes, on the contrary, time diluted, stretched, extended, immortalized, turned toward infinity. Until it becomes in our memory, similar to a long and meaningful river.
The meaning that we give to it, or the words that we've been given. 
So, I do not really know any more if the sun shone this day and if the heaviness of the silence was gobbled up forever or if it still remains..
I do not really know which words actually went out of my mouth and who stopped them. I do not really know what my eyes really saw.
There is no other time than the one that we name with our own empirical instruments. The one that the man himself starts up and the one that his hand stops.
My story is not 'one', it is multiple. It is anchored in Time as it is simultaneously detached from it. One single moment can seem to extend over an eternity or to almost vanish in our memory, as furtively as a wink.
There are no stories. No History either. There are punctual, juxtaposed facts. Lived and felt. Mixed some with the others. Leaving a print. Rather belonging to our memory and what it makes of them.
What remains is certainly related to the certainty or the confusion of the feelings.
Our memory, our history. This fuzzy mirror of our soul.
Our story, a myth 'reconstructed' in the light of our more or less abashed memories, that we consider sometimes as real. Firmly, like a stubborn religion sacrificing our reconstructed and re-appropriated self.
We stand outside any chronological logic. Becoming a logic in itself of ourselves.

Travelling

Whispered words

And a thousand thoughts

Are my travelling

Companions

I hear them

Singing in my ears

A song

Of sweet freedom

Stretching over

A newly born

Horizon

I see

Through your eyes

And mine

Again and again

The fathomless

Meaning

Of the sea

I see

The questions

That have
No answers

Like waves
Stretching
Rolling

endlessly brought back

To the shore

I see

The untold stories

The unheard songs

The reflections upon

The red walls

I see

In black and white

And in color

The incomparable

Beauty
The inconsolable
Pains

Through walking

And walking

And walking

I understand

How much

I can embrace

I know

The measure

of a treasure

Diving into

Pleasure

In so far as

I can't reach

Those mysteriously

Dark clear eyes

An enigma

Fixed in a present

And in a past

that escape me

Belonging to

Parallel

Foreign worlds

Two oceans swimming

Into each other's movement

Joining

In a bliss

Juggling

Within

The magnificent

Almighty

Ambiguïty

A silent conversation

Pure

Entireness

Of silence

Silence

Containing all

The silences

Of our souls

The storms

The whispers

And the cries

The dream

Unfolding

And melting

In an harmonious

Recognition

Everything

But nothingness

A full box

Of silent

Conversations

A weaving of

Colourful words

Melting

In transgression

Tireless

Words

Perfectly tuned

And balanced

Making love

To one another

In a symphony

Of wonder

Words

Never in solitude

In loneliness

Maybe

Like the sweet touch

Of velvet on the skin

Language

Reunified

Into the abysses

Of an absence

Flu

Like a wild beast
Inside
The ached body
Injecting
Feverish nightmares
Into the sweating night

Static hours
Stuck
To the bed
The mind
As heavy as
An anvil
The body like
A cotton flower

Thoughts
Floating in a room
Soaked  with warm sweet tea
And honey

Endless hours
Rocked by
Some fleeting naps
In the chore of a winter
drawn by the hypnotic music
Of stillness

An hibernation

Eyes closed
I think of what
You saw
Then
From your ostracized bed

Those wounds
You would never
Recover from

They just dragged you away
A little more
Everyday
Far from this merciless world
Of  deeply breathing life

My temporary pains
Are not your agony
Eyes half closed
I am
Just waiting for a dawn
Which has
Never been yours

Those who care

Among

The blurred hours

Where fever

Melts into

Some dark 

Nightmares

Inside the ached

Body and soul

I recognize

The soft breath

Of a caring face

Just being there

Without a word

The Hers of her

The Him of him

When he used to care 

Too

A long time ago

In a way

That made me feel

Strong 

Again

Wrapped into words 

And smiles

And sometimes sad 

Silences

Even these ones 

Were warm and soft

In their entire

Consoling 

Solemnity

A graciousness

Feeding my soul

Raising me

Leaving upon

Each surface 

Of the unutterable

Irremovable marks of

Infinite love