Words

He lets me listen, when he moves me, Words are not like other words He takes me, from under my arms He plants me, in a distant cloud And the black rain in my eyes Falls in torrents, torrents He carries me with him, he carries me To an evening of perfumed balconies And I am like a child in his hands Like a feather carried by the wind He carries for me seven moons in his hands and a bundle of songs He gives me sun, he gives me summer and flocks of swallows He tells me that I am his treasure And that I am equal to thousands of stars And that I am treasure, and that I am more beautiful than he has seen of paintings He tells me things that make me dizzy that make me forget the dance and the steps Words...which overturn my history which make me a woman...in seconds He builds castles of fantasies which I live in... for seconds... And I return... I return to my table Nothing with me... Nothing with me... except words