I still have these small white circular scars,
surrounded by a tiny darker halo,
scattered on the lateral half of my belly.
They come from that day in March
when I…
[…] it was at the same time very static, very pure, and very connected to the essence of things, maybe because we were doing almost nothing, maybe because we were…
Bare-chested on the terrace
hidden from view,
at the garden table on top of Marseille,
around ten o’clock in June on Tuesday,
I write in my orange notebook.
I have thoughts, uncombed hair, a single…