Tuesday, February 14, 2006

She stands on my eyelids
And her hair is in my hair,
She has the shape of my hands,
She has the color of my eyes,
She is engulfed by my shadow
Like a stone against the sky.

Her eyes are always open
And never let me sleep.
Her dreams in broad daylight
Melt away the sun,
Make me laugh, cry and laugh,
Talk when there’s nothing to say.
Paul Eluard, “L’Amoureuse”