• Thoughts come from fugitive images
    on which one puts words. And the
    words in turn create new images.
    I think of her name and in my dream
    there she comes.

     

    I miss your back. Not your face,
    not your hands,...

  •  

    I was up above in the gallery, near my room. I crouched down instinctively as if to hide, and kept quite still all the while.

    I know not who it is. He vaguely reminds me of a man I met long ago. The...

  • 1.
    Weightless as sound
    Its origin collapsed into void

    Impossible light of dead stars
    Kindled in the bright emptiness

    ...

  •  

    1
    hikari yori
    kage ni tsutsumare
    waga sugata

    plus que de lumière
    enveloppée d’ombre
    ma silhouette 

    out of light
    wrapped in the...

  • Secret garden

    The gardens I create are ephemeral ; there my voice hollows furrows of night ; gardens of voices which, hand in hand, silently overhang the abyss....