
when the storm breaks out
the taste of the cloud is in
the falling rain

the color of the sea reminded me of your eyes, green, on the iron bars, in the vertigo of the air, the impatience of the hands, clinging, that's for sure, to the twigs of history, near the coast. That was in the evening. 
la couleur de la mer me rappelait tes yeux verts, sur les barreaux de fer, dans le vertige de l’air, l’impatience des mains, agrippées, c’est certain, aux brindilles d’histoire, pres de la côte le soir.

I never doubted
the need for
following directions
in every shape or form
going from 49 to 51
but never asking yourself
why number 50 is on the other side
(this is how we humans live)