Return to Ophelia

Ophelia, take me back to the living heart of this world. I have withdrawn myself
from it and I have been withdrawn from this world when I was searching for the
lost sorrow of Babylon. I draped myself into my exile to satisfy the paintings that I left behind unfinished to grant them the clarity they longed for.
Ophelia, I tried to follow your trace to guide the whispered songs of admiration
that I sent your way. I found them between fragments of different worlds whose weight becomes visible during the night when they are lost to love and the
desolation of memories. Maybe they are beyond all dimensions and time.
Your voice has been heard since your first appearance in this theatre of the world.
But its silence is a sign of doom. Its silence is a sign of praise. Its silence is a sign of whispering. Its silence is a sign of clarity. Your entry into history wasn’t the blink of an eye, but the thunderstorm of old alphabets, reincarnated into the lyricism of the autumn wind. Your voice, your secret whispering and your breathing disarranged the earthly remains of artificial colours. Your existence has starved the cold ground until it moaned for its longing covered in soil, to forget the winter sleep’s peace.
But as much as you can take me away, you cannot get away yourself. You will sink with the roots of the night and rise like the sky to tower over the break of dawn. The simple bruises won’t keep your garments of clouds away. And when we arealone we will offer our images of divine solitude that no language can portray. Not even in their drawing of Joan of Arc.
The saints will come towards us to keep us from our escape from the lovers’ new
dawn. Our sisters will come to make sure we leave during the night of the
autumn, our shoulders covered with fallen leaves of solitude. Our traces wiped
out by our return of divine imagery. The broken wind awakes next to the Swedish
valet of desire.
Ophelia, let us share my suitcase with embroidered roses. Let us take in their
odour and their strength for the long journey we have to complete. We twist our fate. We twist our fate over again and leave it behind on the mountain tops of
depth. Ophelia, we are on our way to the precious waves of light where the
seasons no longer exist. I shall bury my reputation. I will wave my last regrets
away.
Ophelia, I shall take your hand to finally discover the true freedom. I asked for a
friendly hand and you offered me yours. Ophelia, I shall take your hand and
disappear with you.