Not in a clean Feuillet that I write about you
Not in a pretty looking journal nor in my facebook page
But behind the books I am reading… on the very last page
Copperfield, Mill on the Floss, Wuthering Heights and She
Have poems about you on their last pages
A different story, the world will not understand
Not even those who justify Heathcliff, Maggie or Ayesha
Will justify me
While reading,
When philosophies are too advanced
You creep into my fatigued mind
Our laughs, our jokes and our stories distract me
Your laugh, your sighs and your concerns take me away
Away to a dream which both of us love to dream together
And this… is written on the last page of Frankenstein