Up there, my lover, where you begin and I end. Where the air smells like past and our acts have no future. Where our clothes lie like dead bodies on the dirty floor, waiting for their naked souls to come back to them. Up there in that small room of yours is where I long to be tonight.
Your hand in my hand, your head fallen on my shoulder, your closed eyes taking you to a forgotten memory from your past, the smell of tobacco mixed with your musk perfume and the scent of your soft skin. This frozen image is my only friend tonight.
I’ve fallen, my lover. All the taxi drivers know me. Miss “juste conduire autour” taking them in circles around you and your old six storey building. I know no home, no rest, I have no peace. Except with you tonight.
Sometimes my thoughts take me so far away that they become mute. I’m in an ocean of silence, drowning in nothingness. But walking. Always walking in the shadows of the things that are mere shadows in your world tonight.
I understand my place, my lover. That I have to wait, that I need to be patient. That I need not matter, that I should not cry or care. That I should not dare to dream that dream of love. I understand it and accept it more than ever tonight.
I will not come up to your chambre. I won’t even ask to see you. I’ll be one with the walls, I’ll be darkness’ little sister. In the morning I’ll leave and never come back. But tonight, please, just keep a light in the window.