the words are waiting
in the dusty library
for eternity
the words are waiting
in the dusty library
for eternity
you are hearing stories
that you weren't even listening to
with an attentive ear
belated tears
between the porcelain trinkets
"how much for the cup?"
in the strange light
of late afternoon
then you resume your tasks
of the day and of the evening
you remember all the confidences
you did not want to receive
le monde là, dehors
chaque jour un plus gros puzzle
qu’on ne peut résoudre
In all honesty, doesn't really exist, right? To be completely honest, we should include our shadow (according to Jung), and that we cannot, not in public anyway. We try, therefore, we try, as best we can.