#CLUB5050 | YOUR PRESENCE IN MY ABSENCE

Your presence came to increase my absence, as if invisibility was the public,

As if the secret was the corner of the transfiguration,

As if I had not been lost in the labyrinth of negation, and that now I have to get lost in a maze whose thread does not lead to your appearance,

Even though I am present: I see you writing my face in the mirrors, and you command it to have my face,

And I only take hold of it from the depths of my confusion, and I drink nothing but the mirage from the source of your presence.

I delude myself that this is just an illusion, that I have to sprinkle anxiety, so that the grass of sleep grows on my bed,

And that no face is present in my room, except as a spark that has fallen inadvertently, from the hand of your fire.

You are still as you are, in the essence of this flight, and in the center of an age that the past has saturated with migrations and exiles.

You are still able to paralyze hate, and to be clean, and so quiet as a cat step,

Though it is not yet enough to knock on my door with winds and storms, and I freeze with terror on the slopes of your conscience, flaming with contradictory feelings:

To quarrel with sorrow, with joy, to be broken and strong, and to splinter:

To be in every splinter, the lover smeared with a cheerful amorous melancholy:

The flutes compete in my shelter, a hole between their holes, but I am compelled to escape from them to you, as no song accepts me as a poet, nor a melody.

It's in your shelter that i find peace and joy.
Your presence in my life, increased my absence in this world.