Monday, October 31, 2005

Hasards et coïncidences

Pascal is telling funny stories, typing on his notebook. Agathe has made a piece of pottery, a proud woman in white, her belly is pregnant. Celine is reading words doggerel from a children’s book, she is trying, tasting the words like unknown fruit. Roi et reine, ils n’ont pas des enfants, ils sont déséspérés. My hand slips pouring tea over the Japanese paper, the ink smudges, the characters washed away by bitterness. Marie Cecile loves to walk, like Camille’s mother, she rests in herself, she dyes her hair with rainbow colors. She dances in the parlor, Salsa dancing steps, pictures from Africa in blazing orange behind her back. A woman is chasing her memories, taking videos from lost places. An empty boat on the sea. A man painting a woman in salmon pink on a bridge in Venice. A man falling in love with a nameless woman shot with a stolen camera. Water leaks from the shower down to the ground floor. The kindergarten will be on strike tomorrow, someone left a note. Celine spells my name, she wants to become archeologist, she cannot pronounce the word, archéologue, she chuckles, I’ll miss her. At night at the port, ships with dancing bars burst into light and music, the crowd moves like a wave, shaking its body, the eyes filled with rapture.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home