We were moments of some eternity. We were silences, stories without telling, I was for you a stranger, a crazy and a dreamer. For me, you were a road, a forest, a jungle, a sky. Imperceptible for my feelings, impersonal for my serenity, unpronouncible for my mouth, unrenouncible for my will...you have been what I don't know how to be, and that you have always been; sweet like honey, full of ideas, silent, impressionable, a landscape, a poem, always a dilemma.

I confess that I fell in love with your mystery, that I want to pretend that I don't know it, that I fantasize about the thousand ends to the words that you don't say, that there's more in me than you, that from myself; that I am what I want to be when I touch you, that I am who you want to be when you look at me; that I am nobody, that I am inside of you, without literally being inside you. We were that eternity that ended so soon, the soon that doesn't end and that hasn't even arrived. We were what nobody has been, we were without knowing it, only two strangers.