The desire at the early stop already draws on the window,
tinges the air with the volatile shadow to the rhythm of the beats.
The greeting is in the atmosphere almost language.
The looks are in full conversation.
I'm just a rattle
you just a question, a narrowing of your eyelashes.
Distance is third in contention.
The hasty farewell.
He repeats the formula: “See you soon.”
He breaks through and dwarfs you to childhood.
The air repeats the freezing distance,
The clock presides over despair.
A lapse about the book in your hand
He covered your mouth for a moment.
Humming, warming up, mutism,
the tremor of longing.
The cold seeks warmth in the hands. It sneaks into coats.
The restless clicking of heels... and the air that saws the teeth,
It comes out hot and thick,
the sibylline clicking, the combustion when bodies rub together
They will compose the winter music.
The dance is in the corners, he says it with mime.
The improvised plot under a domino effect.
The sensations surely came before
to this atmosphere that was filled with signs.