can't (under)stand the rapidity
of time
its silence as it goes along
the way

temple bar

coincé, abîmé, raté
si seulement je pouvais arrêter le temps
qui s'échappe entre mes doigts
et t'arrêter avec lui
je retrouverais mon havre
sans lequel je ne suis
qu'à moitié

dublin

i think. i write. then i read out loud. and i live.
sometimes life works out. life circles off, sums up and gives in.
in dublin i surrender to myself. i acknowledge time goes by as life runs out. i am within and without. i want to stay as i leave. i want to go as i lie. i whirl as i recall paris, boston, gújara. i open my eyes to look around - and realize no one is looking at me. not even a gaze. not even a smile.
dublin takes me to the border. to the boundary. and in the very edge
-
i cry

et au choucher du soleil
je me demande
ce qu'il m'emmènera demain

mm (words)

even if i knew every language
i would still be lacking words
to put every fleeting moment of ours
into this poem.
we randomly ran into each other -
the charm of words led us
to that random massachusetts autumn.
as words
flowed through bewitched salem, along paris strolls, over leuven bears
our friendship strengthened.
still,
beyond post-colonial theory,
your accurate, witty words
remain interweaved in my memory,
as though they had predicted the past.
beyond all words, beyond every language
dwells the selflessness of friendship
(that between you and me).
still
further out
lies the incommensurability of love
(that between both of you).