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Last night my dear,
I saw you on stage. Afterwards I took a woman up to my room. I had to.
She sat herself upon me rocking back and forth violently, laughing,
shaking her hair, a bottle of champagne in on hand, a broken glass in
the other. But a light beam from the halogen lamp at the ceiling got
caught in the sharp fragments. It caught my eye. And I remembered yours.

How they were sparkling from the stage lights, applause all around, a
rain of flowers showering down covering the floor with a carpet of
roses. And you opened your arms wide, the light changed from red to
blue, as if moonlight. And you sang. Crystal clear your voice, glasses
exploding.
I suddenly pushed the woman of me because my tears had began to flow and

I heard myself sobbing. It lasted for about two minutes and then
stopped. The woman down on the floor went quiet, staring at me in
surprise. So I closed my eyes, threw the broken glass with its glitters,

lights and tingles out of the window and went on making love to her,
trying to forget it was not you. Maybe I will succeed some day.

may issue 2002: "grand prix de la chanson de l'eurovision"

monthly appearing e-zine for multimedia art,
monthly changing subject, no-commerce platform for cyber-artists,
photographers, screen-designer, e-musicians, movie-makers,
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Next month's theme:

mona. in memory of our friend

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