Words

He lets me listen, when he moves me,

Words are not like other words

He takes me, from under my arms

He plants me, in a distant cloud

And the black rain in my eyes

Falls in torrents, torrents

He carries me with him, he carries me

To an evening of perfumed balconies

And I am like a child in his hands

Like a feather carried by the wind

He carries for me seven moons in his hands

and a bundle of songs

He gives me sun, he gives me summer

and flocks of swallows

He tells me that I am his treasure

And that I am equal to thousands of stars

And that I am treasure, and that I am

more beautiful than he has seen of paintings

He tells me things that make me dizzy

that make me forget the dance and the steps

Words…which overturn my history

which make me a woman…in seconds

He builds castles of fantasies

which I live in…for seconds…

And I return…I return to my table

Nothing with me…

Nothing with me…except words