Can you stop being, in this place, without showing your presence?
I keep asking myself if you will answer my instinctive call;
Surely, I deserve it, after all.
As I made you oscillate with a slight ounce of nonchalance;
But isn’t it the game’s essence? In this blur,
I acquit the bet that your “oversight” is only a subtle act
In order to better transcribe the fire during an imminent reminder.
O masterly quintessence, sensational play
Of appearance that will end up being, it seems …
So let’s lie down not far from this choir;
We will conceive the web of our infinite existences;
Yes, at last ended the misfortune, this is without appeal.
For the intense glory smiles upon who tempts.
The Sèvre will soon rejoin the sanitized Loire.
The sun sets, and from my lips you don’t come out so far.