Vivre Sa Vie


All you know are bits and pieces
I enclose a photo and…
ends of the radiant hair

Remove the inside and you see
without hurting or bruising

It was the portrait of a young girl
Forgotten, my broken heart
Maybe I’ll get into films

What about my pictures?
My eyes
I’m telling you my life story.

Loving you is exhausting.
from silence to words
Two years ago, I wanted

A message is a message
No one really knows the language
One searches and can’t find

I saw the film.
When the crook was shot
as the flame of the lamp

I’m a bit shy about undressing
as darkness falls
Gradually, I became a prostitute

Happiness is no fun
Lies, too, are part of our quest.
When shall we do those photographs?

I don’t mean ordinary lies
Speech is another life
I thus saw in vivid light

she creates scenes
and then closed my eyes
Is more to me than the stars

there is a kind of ascetic rule
a more sober and more certain gaze
in our window glows

But when the moment comes to speak,
I exist too. You say I’m cruel,
I had found the spell

Like loving one another more
one has killed the everyday
you just vanished

The film’s started, anyway
And I love you
Plato said so; it’s an old idea


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