the Smokers by Honore Daumier.jpg

People share happy secrets with friends and sad ones with strangers.
A driver will know how often one goes to the secret physician
And a lover will know the exact length of the joy before.
The lover would also tell you how sadness goes to an anonymous place,
Because it is plentiful and happens to everyone. And yet, you cannot
Call it « ground » or « there ».

Because even in a kiss, one would look around for the ground,
In the sea, one would stretch down a foot for the floor,
In the sky, one would still hope for a stone.
In the long and unwelcome night, we get to know this.
That we should be strangers to many as a charity to the species.
The sadness does not fade away in our DNA, it needs listeners.

Image credit : the smokers – Honoré Daumier

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