On my way over
I sat next to a passenger,
Who looked just like her.
She wasn’t a dream nor her,
Because she is neither ;
She comes out never.
I wanted to get my ideas neater
And build some rapport with her :
Are you too going over ?
It could not be clearer.
She said : I can’t go elsewhere,
I’ll follow him. Everywhere.
We’ll land in an hour,
Is it – I questioned her –
Time enough for your spell to falter ?
Well it depends whether
You’ll think of something clever
As an acceptable answer.
The girl’s so fair.
I thought I had forgotten her face,
But I see her in odd places,
Sometimes, when I cross her path.
Credit image : Gajo Dilo – Romain Duris & Rona Hartner
Frédéric Benqué 