The black boat

The stars gave me the impression of a reassuring presence. As if the beauty had not completely disappeared from this country. I walked along the river, embers melting in the air and flying in all directions. The purple flowers were singing a song that I have since forgotten. I untied the black boat from the mooring pontoon. I scratched myself in the night, blood must have fallen on the stone – who knows? The sky advised me to go home but I left never to return.

In my room, my husband is sleeping. The dog is rolled up in a ball at the foot of the bed. The lamp sways slightly. The blankets have fallen onto the carpet. The cracks in the ceiling have never been filled. We hear the neighbors arguing slowly. The wind rushes in through the window. My husband is struggling in a dream. He opens his lips whitened by sleep. Who is he calling in his dream? My bag is left on the living room table.

I left only by taking the fire which burns my soul. The sky is witness to my crime, while the black boat splits the calm waves of the ocean. I seek a safe shore, an eternal adventure. I stare at the stars. The dust of the ocean stains my trembling eyelashes. I sail at sight. The horizon disappears, the day stumbles into the night. I married the shape of the night, my silhouette melted in the darkness. I am only a shadow standing on the black boat

In the dining room, my husband gets up. He makes himself a strong coffee, pours a little powdered milk. He strokes our dog with great tenderness. He closes the open window. He looks out the window and shrugs. Children are playing outside. He waves to them. One of the children has a worn football. His blue shirt is ironed, but he’s still ironing the sleeves to look neat today. He has a business meeting at six.

I leave through the raging waves of my conscience. I take the iodine and the foam I am intoxicated by the rocking of the boat on the water. I let myself be carried to the shore of myths and impossible passions. The land is in sight! I stand upright on the boat and wrap my arms around my knees. The tinkling of my gold bracelet reminds me of the gold of happy days. But already my boat hits the sand of the shore. I pull my dress up over my white ankles and walk on the beach like an omen.

In the city, it is cold, the street lamps smoke. Hopes of finding work have frozen for many of our fellow citizens. The sky is red, the moon has not been visible for days. The unemployed are piling up on the forecourt of the big companies. My husband is the most elegant man in the company, wearing a black silk Armani suit that I bought him one summer afternoon. He smokes a cigar while waiting for his appointment. Does he miss his wife in the city?

I left one morning, I opened the cage, let the parakeets we loved escape. The sky was tinged with the colors of their feathers. And like in a play, the night fell like a curtain on my dark thoughts. I walked through the fog of the city thinking of my father’s tender face. Nausea made me stop near the port. There the pier faded into pink smoke and let me see a boat.

I will not return. I will wander on this beach until I fall from exhaustion. Happiness and love are two beautiful pictures but they are not worth the experience of sand and rain. I will shout to the night that I love it, I will embrace the sun with my white-hot arms. I will not come back, my husband can find another wife, my parents another child, I will not come back. I moored my boat to the pontoon of the sincere resolutions, I confessed myself to the sky. I want to dance in the fog, I want to dance on the sand and forget the too dazzling light of love’s comfort.

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