Jeanne Mas
sure de lui
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Confident, I slip into the darkness
Of his desires, when the sighs merge.
Beneath the feelings, the satin wrinkles to the rhythm of my blood.
Sure of itself, it is a completely dazed wave
Which unfolds, which imposes itself in the silence
Burns all the energy and the lightning comes to shatter the infinite.
He is, he is he in me, he is, he is he on me.
Sure of him, I provoke uncertainty
Which fills me, the 'universe of an encounter
Flees his agony, when the dance becomes fruitful, in a cry.
He is, he is he in me, he is, he is he on me.
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