PORTRAIT

PORTRAIT

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      Sometimes I wonder whether he has ever existed. I wonder about this in those moments when I think of him without succeeding to remember him among the dizzy, chaotic memories.
          However he should have existed… otherwise whom would I try to remember ?…
        I only wonder whether I have really known him, or I have only dreamed of him, in one of those misty dreams from which one remembers little. I wonder whether his way has ever crossed mine, even for a single moment.
        I startle when the morning memories touch me, thinking I have really remembered something about him. But soon I realize that it wasn’t his habit that I remember… It was the dawn sun’s habit to knit its beams through his too long eyelashes. And he… he used to collect sunsets and nights by the edge of the sea. And only now I understand why he didn’t believe in soul. He could not feel his, therefore he thought it didn’t exist, because his soul was made of light.
        But he has really existed… now I fully remember him. I have built him again from memories, recomposing him from shadows. Only one detail I could not find anymore : the part of me he took away with him, when he left.

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