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It's dark in the room that is me
where more exactly
The day fades, I lie
But who is "me"?
Just a custom-made memory
Salty memories
As selective as a washing machine
The days grow dull at low tide.
You scream "you don't want me anymore"
Hidden face, I was just a bunch
Of wet clothes, a beating heart
What if I spat on the ground?
I would make a hole in the green algae
It is dark
In the room
Here I play
Give me your hand
I will make you fall in this hole
where you had the wrong role
Not "best of" trials
Without reel, without film
My memory prints
My pride fall undone
I'm just a left woman
In the melting snow
Something that we no longer want deep down
evening has fallen
There, I lie more
I threw your photos in confetti
I tore your image
Floating gently on the beach
If you glue the ends of the pages
You will find on your face
The eye where the mouth was
Too lucid where the heart was no longer there
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