No more asking of “what” and “why”;

As always, silence replaces the weeping.

I keep repeating that you are not alive,

But you are not dead either, you are just sleeping.

I hear your steps on the staircase,

Your voice rushes in, then, the smell of your hair.

You smile at me, and I look through your face

As the cold of eternity fills up the air

And rests on the lifeless face ...

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I cut an apple

In two halves precisely.

Now how do I choose

The finer half?

Life is made up of

Half-truths and half-lies

And then of the almosts.

My half-live half-lived…

The other half is still

Inside the magician’s hat.

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The time is crawling

On this slippery Friday afternoon.

My body is trapped

In an hourglass room.

My poor empty body

Can no longer feel the pain.

There is a dry flower

In the corner.

I have been staring at it

For the past hour.

Does it crave love

That I can no longer give?

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It was me whose glimpse you caught

Hurrying,

Turning around the corner,

Wishing to go unnoticed.

It was me you felt

Sifting through your fingers

Like sand at dusk,

Sitting alone on the shore...

It was me you smelled

Walking through the autumn orchards,

Through the sunlit prairies,

Through the second-hand bookstores.

It was me you tasted,

When you bit an unexp...

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