Mine/mine/mine

Your head may be messing up with your heart,
whispering someone else's name
and blowing winds of some
oasis of freedom.

But,
you're mine
and so you shall remain
forevermore.

(Make no mistake)
For
you're mine.

Both of our bodies will undoubtedly know
a million other hands or so.
They will try and teach us otherwise
but their smells and waters
will never wash our mark.

(Make no mistake)

I and I only will be the slash
that hangs inside your soul, forever
the one rupture that cannot be filled in
or out.

(Make no mistake)
Eons will pass and go by
and you'll still be mine.

I'm under your skin
and I shall never shed.

Resign today and confess
you're mine
and so you shall remain forever
and forevermore.

Sleepsail/Demi-sommeil

Here's a secret, and it's true. There is an extra hour between late afternoon and early evening that can last a lifetime, but it is only available for a special kind of people: those under nine years old.

This time of the day can unexpectedly appear at any time of the year. However, most recordings of this type of phenomenon are located either in the depths of particularly cold winters, or around dusk in the yummiest summers, just when the air starts to get perfectly cool. Some call it the Merkgar.

At these magical hours, portals to other worlds can be opened. Adventures that will know no end start there. But the Merkgar can go on and on, through jumps in time, for each experience can and does continue in the subconscious of an adult. There is a catch, tough. We cannot act freely in the new realm while simply dreaming, and so what we all long for is to get back to our particular Narnia during particular bits of restless sleep.

Mine has been long and changing. I have seen many unimaginable lands throughout my travels. It all started one uncomfortable autumn afternoon, at the doctor's waiting room...

Vent du nord, rien ne mord

Malheureusement, le vent du nord est toujours présent. Il refroidit l'atmosphère et, combiné avec le ciel d'un gris que je n'avais jamais vu, me renferment un peu plus dans mon cocon. Me détachent encore un peu plus du monde extérieur. Cela ne va pas être facile de s'en sortir.

Mais c'est si confortable là-dedans, en regardant mes infortunés voisins qui doivent se battre avec ce temps intempestif. Une jeune traverse la cour et pousse ses cheveux en arrière, nos regards se croisent. Son sourire me parvient à travers la fenêtre.

Je jette un coup d'œil à la dernière ordonnance de non communication, toujours posée sur la table basse du salon. Et là c'est mon propre sourire qui se reflète sur la fenêtre.

Quand rien ne mord même un petit ça fait plaisir...