late in life

I am callous
I am tender
And I have wasted my time
Dreaming without sleeping
Sleeping while walking
Everywhere that I have been
I have found myself absent
I belong nowhere
Except the void
But I carry hidden high up in my bowels
At the spot where lightning has struck too often
A heart where each word has left its mark
And whence my life trickles away with the slightest movement

(from La liberté des mers)