• 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



    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....