March 27th

You're not a body anymore.

You're a pleasant and good memory, softer and softer as it drifts away.

I would have liked to surrender myself to you so that you could have had access to all I am, so that you could have seen me when I wasn't looking at you.

I would have liked to do you the honor to give pleasure not only to you but to myself, too.

I know you would have liked it.

My pleasure is raw and devastating, but I know, without a doubt, that you wouldn't have feared it.

You would have desired it even in your sleep.

More piercing than my eyes, it would have gone through you, engulfed you from end to end.

You would have kept it forever.

You would have remembered it every time a bit of me would have crossed your mind.

You would have loved it.

You wouldn't have heard anything that truthful.

You would have heard my soul escape from a place I would have liked you to reach and visit.

Maybe one day you'll see it if you look beyond my body.

Everything looks artificial to me, but I remember what I missed without regrets.

This feeling is beautiful and full of hope.

I remember the peace I deprived myself of by your side and I let myself be invaded by that I've found and savor and tell you about.