Si tu me vois dans une de tes pensées, serre-moi fort que tu me manques.
(Julio Cortázar)

je chabrole / tu chabroles / il/elle chabrole / nous chabrolons…

Ces petites forêts que sont tes baisers

Les chevaux d’Achille, Constantin Cavafy, tr. Xavier Bordes et Démosthènes Davvetas
(à mon papa)

(Apollinaire c’est très très très très fort tout de même)

“I don’t want to talk the language of the enemies of my heart.”
(Jim H.)

“My heart was eating my stomach.”
(J.Harrison, in The Road Home)

"I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past."
(Virginia wolf, To the Lighthouse)

“How in hell do we become something else, I thought.”
(Jim Harrison)

“It’s so hard to describe what I feel when I feel I really exist and my soul is a real entity that I don’t know what human words could define it.”

(Pessoa)

“Sometimes dreams are wiser than waking.”

~ Heȟáka Sápa, Black Elk (1863-1950)

#Photography

(Wyeth)

Je prononce ton nom
En cette nuit obscure
Et je l'entends sonner
Plus lointain que jamais,
Plus lointain que toutes les étoiles,
Et plus plaintif que le bruit de la pluie.

(F.García Lorca)

(Lapsus très beau entendu ce matin - prix Nobel de la peau)

(A.Wyeth)

“Love, that is the pulse of all, the sustenance and the pang,
No other theme but love-knitting, enclosing, all-diffusing love.”

(Walt Whitman)

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ‘My Cathedral’ (1880)...

#Photography

LETTERS

Rain has eaten 1/4 of me

yet I believe
against all evidence

these raindrops
are my letters of recommendation

here is a man worth falling on.

(Ilya Kaminsky)

“Pourquoi est-elle venue? Pour se faire du mal. C'est, parfois, tout ce qu'il nous reste.”
(Marina Tzvetaïeva)

“The best swordsman does not fear the second best. He fears the worst since there's no telling what that idiot is going to do.”
(M.Twain, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court)

“Words are only painted fire; a look is fire itself.”

(M.Twain)

"...and how I love your handwriting, that running shadow of your voice..."
(V.Nabokov, Letters to Vera)

“L'amour - c'est ce pays à l'infini ouvert par deux miroirs qui se font face.”
(André Hardellet)
(c’est si beau…me donne envie de pleurer)

“Not touching
but joined in astonishment as two cuts lie parallel in the same flesh.”
(Anne Carson)