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mood |
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bit lost kiddo |
] |
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music |
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with a thick hood and a T-shirt spelling soothie |
] |
Possibly high above the clouds
Bits of furnitures: floating
and parts of buildings, roofless
The pale boy with crimson lips
Emmanuel who played the cello
in an octuor asking me who
I would like to join to the two
of us... I point the girl he smiles
smoothly: Myryam, 12, éolienne
(from Eole islands, Greece?).
She passes behind him, a brush
To his lower back
she glances mischieviously
her long dark curls swing
Then we jump alternatively
from those colourful rooms
suspended high in the sky
with thin transparent wires
and I feel vertigo
and we smile dizzily
and in a hollow tower
A friend of mine climbs
tumbling up towards us
along a central beam
catch then leave it
oh daddy oh daddy: weeping, on the other side of the dusty train window, daddy draws my name "daijobu M-tchan" (quiet, it will be fine), I rarely face his look and this time, safe with the mirrored screen and wrestling/ alarmed by the perspective of not seeing him for four months, I watch his eyes, all of his goodness, and his face looking older than I remember having seen it, and all of his wishes and his peaceful strength when he tries to soothe me makes me think of an old bronze sun god and I cry. For all I can't cast out, all the sulkings and the fights, all the griefs and silences, I never manage to admit to feel_ love; and I'm thinking of when it will be too late for us. You say "we, parents, are the arch and you are the arrow, go my child and don't look back, do not worry for your mother nor me, you know however far we got I'll always take care of her".
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