Joris Iven |
BRUGES
It was always summer, we breathed in sea-air and walked along footpaths in Bruges. I walked next to you. I didn’t know you. I didn’t touch you, not even casually. You cast a long shadow in front of you. The asphalt melted with the heat. We stopped at the traffic lights. I didn’t look at you. We could hear each other breathe. We went on our way and our shadows fell across each other. I didn’t want to follow you, but avoided you just as little. Now and again the shadow of a tree fell across our shadow and I realised how small we were. Repeatedly though we translated our bodies and our motion into a shadow. We didn’t speak, but secretly sensed each other’s presence, in that street. We shared our shadows. Our paths diverged, but we embraced that which translated us.
· Essays · Toneel |