On the land where solitude walks,
Its silence has an abyss.
What might change
By breaking it
The vow of silence broken.

Goats fallen into the ravine
Their blood on the rocks,
Every moment is dangerous,
A herald of death,
A goat lying down
To rest on the rocky hill,
Hidden from land predators.

"Plant a tree,"
says Mother,
"If you can't find a friend like yourself,
a book will be your friend."
But that is not enough.

Sometimes, as Houellebecq would say,
we want to be in someone or the opposite,
constantly desired, we just need the right person.

Sometimes it feels like I live inside my own head
Until I step outside,
Look at people,
Listen to their conversations.

We often think that one person cannot change anything
But we’re mistaken,
One often decides,
In most cases.

The wind flutters your black cloak,
You smoke a cigarette
With a hand frozen from the cold,
The red fragments of your heart
Are piled beneath your feet,
You’re going nowhere
Because of your love’s hold.

I still love you.
You loved my body,
The dark side of my heart.
I lost you,
My tear-streaked glasses.
I still love you.