Chapter one

January 1st 2017

As if I followed a path drawn by your voice,
an echo.

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January 10th 2017

Groove, or furrow. Or else, cleavage.

A scar in advance of events. Something between wound and direction being built. Something to follow and bear at the same time.

I would seize the invisible. That, I knew.

You, unforeseen, forward. Before me.



April 8th 2017

J’ai touché le son de ta voix.

I have touched the sound of your voice.

The echo stays, within.



April 24th 2017

You will think, or I will.
It does not change anything.
How buildings look at us.
The sad way the windows, like mirrors, give us back the shadow of those who live in that stair system.
The smell of those kitchens.
Daily drugs, driven to us as dust, daily, by inattentive eyes.
With inattentive eyes.

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May 6th 2017


How the void of walls may be filled with your unknown presence.

As if something never seen before became visible in its resounding silence.

Waiting for the light to flood from windows you can only guess behind the corner.

I step within.



August 7th 2017
There, beyond the sway of curtains, men walk.



September 10th 2017

The casual frailty of a gesture,

Calling inside

As if for light to answer.



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