Poème d’après (7) « From A Dark Hollow Speaking »

From A Dark Hollow Speaking

I could never have been
In a true love story
With someone who chatted
About her charms with a friend
And just right on my face

The web can allow that
And we don’t understand
Neither me nor her
That’s forever written
And will ever command

In the back of our mind
It’s so easy for me
To write the story back
And I’m not called for a saint
I have to admit the less

All the screen memories
Are coming back along
i have to dig out the cloves
And the screws and the spines
One by one if I want

Not to be crucified
By this false intimacy
In a warning alarm
That’s forever postponed
And is flagging right now

Too late to ask questions
Too late to take it back
Too late to ask questions
And check if she is real
From my black memory

I’m talking black and white
This is my crime for sure
I myself fooled me blank
In a dry position
I could bend on my knee

Not to remember this
True love might not be real
And we must kill the myths
But when overexposed
How can you accept

To be so overwhelmed
By desire right but also
By the will to meet one
Who would feel just like you
And is not an actress