I often desired more
with the impatient burning within the chest
the shapeless dance of naive shadows
being stripped of love and wish
in the dusty single ...
The midnight coffee beans always remind me of her-
the desk lamp the open laptop the half open window,
the curtains dance softly in wind.
I stare at the ...
My fingers still search that little emptiness
on midnight bed
where once you slept with
your Summer warmth.
Now there lies the other part of me.
In that orange afternoon I first saw you
at that moment I knew you are the woman
after the sleepless nights the scent of you
made me love life ...
And then walking along with her by a little stream by a little wooden bridge and a half moon hung in the sky, I feel that the pain is back. Why from where it ...
The half-buttoned shirt of youth
and the sun burnt brown skin
which still bears the scar of the first kiss
a beating of heart
a slow retreat to darkness
I came to you, always
With a restless heart
When I am full of darkness within
No light, in the horizon
I stand at the mirror
Shade off all my clothes
I often draw whispers on the mirror
They paint strange faces
In the half light I find the old moon
Staring with a glance of a full night
Before she departs ...
This is the third and final installment of "Travel with a French Writer". You can find the first and second installments here and here.
Each night I come ...