Perdu En Mer

Sometimes it seems that the heart and the sea have made a secret pact - who will sink first. The waves call out names, but there is no one left to answer. Memory works like an old projector: it jumps between frames - here are the hands, here is the laughter, here is the last shadow on the wall. Everything is still warm, but no longer alive. And that makes it especially painful.

There is too much silence between breaths, too much of a little bit between dreams. It seems that you can just close your eyes and return to the point where light was inseparable from skin. But the sea does not bring you back. It only whispers, as if it knows where the lost smile is now hidden.

Sad and beautiful, as it always is when love doesn't quite go away - remaining in the blood, in memory, and in the sound that refuses to fade.