Updated: Aug 7, 2019
This is me sitting in silence
on the metal chair
This is me staring at the ageless sky
window against my cheek
This is me counting my steps
crushed by the ceiling
This is me forgotten by the days
or was it someone else
This is me trying to stand tall
in fragments of beauty
holding on to a book
sitting by my own side
in another room
From her small window, she sees the man, young, on his bike, carelessly riding the big city, not holding on to the handlebar, and she remembers what it is to be free. She talks to him. He might be in
« Il n'existe que trois êtres respectables : Le prêtre, le guerrier, le poète. Savoir, tuer et créer. Les autres hommes sont taillables et corvéables, faits pour l'écurie, c'est-à-dire pour exercer ce