It's not enough to dream
if I wake up again in the same story
knowing that it will never be written or told.
It is not enough for me to be a polyglot
if I can't say with clarity
what prevented us from being happy.
It is not enough for me to try to reach the sky
if I did not learn to walk
firmly on the face of the earth.
It is not enough for me to repeat
that I feel immortal,
for I die when I wake up in solitude.
It is not enough for me to find fault
if there were no situations
that erase from my mind your caresses.
It is not enough for me to define
if this is part of a plea
or simply a poem
born from a memory of other lives...
