And if one day.
But never tomorrow.
We woke up again together,
emerging from a whirlwind of dream and thunder.
Will you listen to me?
One day when the dunes will take the color of the evening and the tired bells will stop playing the dull tones of a return that will no longer happen.
Will you find me?
Surrounded by the storm on each side as far as the eye can go and remaining stoically immobile in a given place.
What would you choose?
Your empty words or my dead gestures?
Shadows behind my skull, breathing the pure air of your last breath.
I finally know what I want.
Lie down in the hay of a summer that no longer exists at this time.
Crushing to dust the dry flowers between the pages of my books.
Walk distant streets in the sunlight.
Catch you by the hand and drag you into the light.
Living for the sake of it.
I do not need a motivation.
Words will have to come out sooner or later.
Or I’ll end up forgetting what it means to say them.

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