Having never truly understood why I could never stop writing nor let you go, it came to me in a dream.
I'll share it with you because if only in my head, we are the strangest sort of friends.
In the dream there was a video and a crowd, but nobody could really see what they were looking at.
And one by one, they left the room.
It was only us left.
Perhaps we couldn't see the video yet either, but we were prepared to wait.
For someone who could not feel anything real, and knew they were stuck
to find someone else with whom, shoulder to shoulder, to watch the world in infinite slowness
finding, in turn, the courage and patience to wait in company for something real to appear
like the beating wings of an emotion from the block-coloured bleak -
well, for someone like me, this was something dramatic, like salvation.
I found you beautiful, well into something that was dangerous, well beyond what the world puts in our face and tells us is beautiful.
I still have to find my way out of the sea, even though life goes on.
