Is the world, I took refuge in, safe enough? Isn’t it flashing at me its blandishing colours to lure me into a trap?
What if it were a lark? A lowly deceit? A carnivorous plant tempting me with its voracious mandibles disguised as tender petals?
What if Jean-François were a vampire? A dream draining me of my force?
What if I could never become myself ? If I could never live out my own life again?
What if I were condemned to carry my poet in me forever, feeding him on my flesh and blood?
Once again, I close my eyes and wrap up my anguish in the words.