In the meantime, within the greedy beauty of my days, words, colors, and music dance together in the secret ruby of my intense, immense heart. Bubbles of joy burst in the sweetness of silken evenings, as this self prepares for you.
In the meantime, I feel your doubts, fears and guilt throughout my entire being. Forgive yourself and trust yourself! Do you feel the benevolent, eternal and unconditional light that radiates through every pore of my soul?
In the meantime, must I still write on the white sheet of this silence, calligraphing my smiles to life like so many suns full of love, or drawing, with the scratched ink of my dreams, the throbbing, blue butterflies of your eyes?
Our eternal complicity is that of hands that call to each other, of fingers that clasp together, of children's eyes that wander under the ruddy sun and the opportune moon, of hearts that whisper, listen to each other, and respond to each other in the cove of silent distance. And when we forget ourselves, the Universe rains down mirror hours...
On the path of silence I cast these brief messages: little pebbles of sunlight. By finding them you will find yourself in freedom and in the light of words. What a long and beautiful journey where I vibrate and transform at every step! Who will we be tomorrow when your hand finally rests on my shoulder?
Prisoner of an absentee, I wandered through thorny tunnels, as long as years of solitude, lost my name, the meaning, and the essence of life. The past is the breeding ground of the present, our suffering, the path of divine butterflies… Through our wounds, light and joy penetrate the chrysalis and lift us away until we drink from the cup of the stars. Dare to metamorphose, my rose!
I learned to swim in your silence like doves among olive branches... For a long time, my question marks have vanished with your facial features, drawing on the book of my lips the smile of Mona Lisa... No route other than that of words, little electric lioness, if you wish to leave the prison of your thoughts for the invigorating and exalted color of the present you aspire to... Break the walls, be sure and whisper…
Our eyes are electromagnetic traitors... Mine have the color of Mother Earth, yours, that of Father Sky... The Universe, a mischievous child, tore our soul in two. When they intersect, they nourish us, regenerate us, erasing the time and space around us to create a world bursting with softness in our intimate bubble. In each other's presence, our gazes reveal all the intensity of an extraordinary bond...
When your sky is reduced to ashes, you nibble at our memories like chunks of sunshine... I know everything... the wishes, the confessions of your eyes, the dreams of your lips, and the languid 'one more time!' of your body... as well as the pains of your heart… In the small of my back, the soul of your flame burns stronger and stronger. You're getting closer...
Naked, in the truth of solitude, with the blanket of our memories on the shoulders of silence, under a shower of stars, I wait for mine. As I continue on my way, I can't help but think of everything I could create with the gouache of your eyes, the melody of your voice, and the illuminated swirls of your heart. Ultimately, wounds become doorways of light… Love yourself as I love you... and how you love me...
In your dreams, when I catch you, I gently draw light kisses on your laughing eyelids with my breath and tattoo your neck with a bouquet of leaves, shaped like smiling lips, in the colors of the rainbow, before you vanish. One day, or rather one night, I will dress you, from head to toe, with my kisses…
In the starry island of our smiles, the azure of our glorious eyes, the softness of our loving hands, and the electric sensuality of our bodies velvety with love, we will find ourselves face to face. Our legs, rustling like bouquets of doves, will start running towards each other, destroying, step by step, the dark and obsolete bridge of the silent years...
These days, I like to think of you... You are a blue smile, a gourmet oasis, a sensual flash. These short poems are not messages in bottles cast adrift at sea, but rather waves of flowers with joyful foam blossoming spontaneously on the soil of your absence. This silence is no longer the toothless, icy prison of yesteryear, but a toy box full of children's cries, which, when the time comes, we open together, bickering and laughing...
For once all together and well-dressed – funeral. * No flower wreaths – just a white rose on his coffin. * After funeral sharing funny anecdotes about him to relieve sadness.
In this body of anxieties, conformity and the desire to please, I still feel the intense and cheerful sun of your childhood breathing in you... Close your eyelids and see!... Cover your ears and listen!... Throw away your tragic wand and become again the little and free blue enchantress with flowery fingers and eyes of light who made the poppies dance in the wind of her laughter, charmed the butterflies with her sweet voice... and join me!
I am the homo montagnus the Wild King of the Mountain Island clothes full of dirt and almond blossoms in my hair – Thank you for this gift, O Wind! – in silence and joy I walk alone.
I started by tearing down the roof then the partitions and walls gradually the invisible has revealed itself in the absence of borders I'm living in the light... "I" is everywhere "I" is nowhere.
How many "I love you's" did I send to silent heavens? I would need thousands of fingers on my hands to count them… Sometimes it feels like each of my heartbeats whispers one... Why? Quite simply because there's always this incomprehensible desire in me to share my moments of happiness with you... And even when I completely succeeded in erasing you from my consciousness, I was stunned to find myself pronouncing these words while walking alone, my lips blooming with a smile... Maybe this is how I realized what unites us...
Every day overflowing trash cans end of the year * Every day treasures in trash cans end of the year. * End of the year Christmas trees are growing in trash cans.
The beauty of the world is pulsing then streaming under a rainbow of honey... In the smiling nostalgia of the almond blossom, with the tips of my fingers like a night-watching mother, I'm purposefully drawing the sunny blue islands of your eyes. Now, it's time to open your door...
You infuse my dreams like the Universe, shaping the clay of my days, but the ether is not the Earth... And when I crave words of cotton, sun, and sugar, you offer me your frozen lips of fear. Above all, there is this silent and untimely shadow that suddenly appears and disturbs my angel... Do not return to my dreams as a lie if you do not bring with you the key to the bygone years
With red, I incarnate with orange, I create with yellow, I feel emotions with green, my heart speaks with royal blue, I express myself with indigo blue, the invisible is revealed with purple, I let in the light of my soul. Smiling eyes closed as shivers of pleasure vibrate every inch of skin when the light enters...
