| Book Description | In the presence of absence
Line by line I scatter you before me with a competence I have only been given in the beginnings/And as you advised me, I stand now in your name to thank your mourners to
this final journey, and invite them to shorten the farewell and depart for a celebratory dinner worthy of your memory/
So allow me to see you as you left me and I left you, safe like the prose filtered on a stone that turns green or yellow in your absence.
And allow me to ache for you, and your name, as the passerby gathers what the olive pickers have forgotten of the grains hidden by the pebbles. And let us go together, you and I, on two paths: You, to a second life, which language promised you, in a reader who might survive a meteorite falling to the ground.
And I, to an appointment I postponed more than once, with death, which I promised a glass of red wine in one of the poems. There is no shame on the poet if he lies. And he only lies in love. |
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