I\'m waiting .
Maybe love .
Or simply death.
That a door opens .
A departure .
A future ?
The return of the comet
and a few other illusions ...
I\'m waiting .
Same as a religion .
Similar to an offering .
The one that won\'t come .
Those who will never return
and to whom I continue
to write ...
A drama passes on the battle song
of passion ...
Leaving the sharpness of a scent
that clings to the hours
when one is alone...
A call that reflects only the faint
echolalia of yesterday ...
I can\'t remember the lyrics
to that old song anymore ...
It\'s raining on the grimacing
carnival faces .
the law requieres them
to wear a suitable mask !
On the \'\'Grand place \'\' pass
silent penitents and defrocked
somewhat ashamed ...
A woman with a blossoming curve
awaits me in these bustling years .
Chronicle of a past that had not
yet left on me the yesteryear\'s seal ...
Have I lived so little that I must already
leave again ?
Do we know why we go round
in this fatal geometry ?
Please accept these Belgian chocolates.
I dislike flowers whose hurts
are sanctified in cruel rituals...
and also those few laughable
and derisory words that dares
not say : \'\' Do you love me ? \'\'
Me neither my dear ...
I don\'t really know what I\'m expecting.
But I have a feeling that it\'s so important...