Impudique Magazine

Photo de Ernesto Timor

Alone… Et la voix de Ben envahit ma tête, noyant mes pensées… Ses mots m’enlacent, me caressent…

Je suis seule. Debout. En haut de la pente.

Less… Les cordes m’arraisonnent. Et je m’abandonne.

Two hands of a prayer… Au-dessus de l’amer. Ecouter le silence.

Just to hear it fall is the sweetest sounds of things

Les vagues frappent la roche. Eternellement.

Good lovers make great enemies

Pardon. Pardon. And I can’t remember not a word that I said

My beloved one

And there he was this young boy

A stranger of my eyes

Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words

Killing me softly with his song. Et Aretha me suit. Et le vent me pluie.

I’ve never knew what it was to be alone, no

Cause you were always there for me

You were always there waiting

And ill come home and I miss your face so

Smiling down on me

I close my eyes to see. In loving memory. Quelque part. Je suis là. Revigorée. Vivante. Si vivante. A en faire frémir les ans bruns.