Two is red like an open wound. It is never entirely inseparable, though it contains the smell of hands touching, of someone else’s hair on your pillow. It is a melody which always has an intrinsic beauty, even if it sounds completely out of tune to others.
The sight of a sick person makes you shrink back instinctively. Yet after an age of reason, an age of strong feelings will come up again. In the darkness of winter, everybody begins to talk about light. But in the brightness of summer, you will put your sunglasses on quickly.
Breton says in his Nadja that he has added many photographs to the text in order to eliminate all description. Yet what he has not included is a photograph of Nadja, the main character of his book. Instead, he describes her in detail.
This is because what we see in those we love cannot be seen by anyone else, even if we take a photograph. Our lover’s face as it is on our mind is a riddle no one else can solve: because it is also a mirror proving that we exist.
The swallows on the Asian woman’s shirt are heading south.
All my love is in one place. And I – I let it escape.