from a distance
in your presence,
in your absence,
something of you remains,
where i meet myself :
the color of distant love,
the lost domains
of a wandering fragrance,
and i, the smallest thing,
wait for my time
beyond men…
and you bed yourself,
suffocating,
to seal the silence
of my absence,
the night wind sings
under the infinite sky,
we, from that time,
bound each to the other,
kiss by kiss,
as true and as distant,
as the star-like silence.
