There flows between us on the terrace an underwater light that distorts the profile of the hills and even your face. Every gesture of yours, cut from you, looms on an elusive background; enters without wake, and vanishes, in the midst of what drowns every furrow, and closes over your passage: you here, with me, in this air that descends to seal the torpor of boulders. And I flow into the power that weighs around me, into the spell of no longer recognising anything of myself beyond myself; if I only raise my arm, I perform the action otherwise, a crystal is shattered there, its memory pallid forgotten, and already the gesture no longer belongs to me; if I speak, I hear this voice astonished, descend to its remotest scale, or die in the unsupportive air.
In such moments that resist to the last dissolution of day bewilderment endures: then a gust rouses the valleys in frenetic motion, draws from the leaves a ringing sound that disperses through fleeting smoke, and first light outlines the dockyards.
β¦words fall weightless between us. I look at you in the soft reverberation. I do not know if I know you; I know I was never as divided from you as now in this late return. A few moments have consumed us whole: except two faces, two strained masks, etched in a smile.