MISPLACEMENT

I have followed the steps of a pensive woman. I was seduced by the black eyes and the strange whiteness of the face.

An illness had made me lose interest in life.

I wandered through a series of streets shorn of stones and immersed in darkness. I indolently gave myself over to danger.

I have reached the suburb of her home. The moon fascinates me imperiously.

I have witnessed the parade and gathering of ambiguous figures. They all displayed the pensive woman’s profile and surrounded me, forming a chorus of threats and lamentations.

I went back to the city’s central square, leaning on a night watchman’s arm. Despite the late hour, I visited the room where I was accepted in good standing. The windows leaked a profuse light onto the street.

Wordlessly, I incorporated myself to the discourse of the incredulous priests.