Our secrecies

The fog rose this morning, coming to cover the lake where we drowned our secrecies, our last sufferings. We thought them forever cast. But, this morning while coming to walk along dark banks, I saw going up on the surface what we had done everything to forget. A hand covered with algae, a white face, hair stuck above. A deformed mouth. A cry which cannot leave there. Our demons appeared, returned of deepest of our history, breaking this smooth memory that we got busy to manufacture. To protect us. To believe that we exist. To hope that the centuries will not have a catch on us. Between the trees of the park where we grew, where we so often played. In this place where we learned how to love us, to grow, to be afraid to lose us. On this lake where there was the accident. A fall of the boat, the water which enters my mouth, chokes me. My arms which beat to resist. My body which is inserted. The light of the life which dies out. For the last time your looked at face. Above, so much of fear, distress. It is not that image which I would have liked to carry. You were traumatized, terrified. Me, as much. Then, there was the calm, silence, this mattress of vase where I rested. Later, much later, I belonged myself to this body which had given up me. I left to your research. I found you only the evening when your body, used, agreed to let you leave to precipitate you in my arms. Since, we walk in this park like phantoms current after our missed lives. One did everything to forget this disastrous day where I drowned. But this morning, the fog awoke it to torture me, us to make suffer, us to recall that we must protect ourselves, us to like. Then, as insane, I run towards to throw you, me in your arms. To close the eyes, to believe that never nothing arrived. To cheat, falsify our reality. Since centuries, I know that we live in this world where never we will not manage to drown our secrecies, our last sufferings.