I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

For now I ask no more Than the justice of eating.

Tomorrow we will only give them a leaf of the tree of our love, a leaf which will fall on the earth like if it had been made by our lips like a kiss which falls from our invincible heights to show the fire and the tenderness of a true love.

Oh to follow the road that leads away from everything, without anguish, death, winter waiting along it with their eyes open through the dew.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then the little drops of anguish will all run together, the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift into me, choking my lost heart.

Will our life not be a tunnel between two vague clarities? Or will it not be a clarity between two dark triangles?

And I watch my words from a long way off. They are more yours than mine. They climb on my old suffering like ivy.