I know for certain that I have nothing to reproach you with, that you are true to me. I know for certain that with every passing day, you give me a bit more, that you listen to my confusion and want to hear my laughter.
I know this for certain. It’s just this apartment with its bright walls. Shutting the door cuts me off from the smell of earth. It’s being cooped up in this space, just the two of us, watching each other’s gestures, seeing words rebound and wound our souls. It’s this television with meaningless words, the yelling matches. It is being on my own, in front of my typewriter, writing the days away and you, in the evenings, your back bent, while you eat.
I tell you, all it takes is a strange noise from the radiator and my eyes stay peeled in the darkness of our bedroom. All it takes is the slightest intake of breath and my sleep leaps a hundred metres high.
Yet, just as the night begins to fall, when I am curled against your body that is as warm as a croissant, I have visions of happiness.
I can see us loving each other for a long time to come. We are here today, tomorrow we will be somewhere else where my body will find its rhythm and I will recognise the faces of passers-by.
With you I have rediscovered simple words, rediscovered the joy of evenings spent chatting, nights spent holding hands, hoping for a city that will not leave behind a bitter taste of defeat in the mornings.
Maybe together, we will make it.
Please do not reproach me for unleashing a storm upon this sleepy city, for mislaying dreams made of rare pearls and fetish gold.
He has lodged himself in my heart and I do not know what to do with him. But I do not want him to become a bad memory. I feel a richness pervading me. This love for you and for him.
Who knows? It may rot with time … or flourish like a hibiscus in full bloom.