Love Is

Searching in the night for the springs of Rhone the asphalt embraces the stone like a snake. "It is the only way" said to me William Tell at the gas station of Saint Alpine. And when mountains stood up all around, when we were surrounded by dark forests and the dawn seemed to be totally lost, you showed me your body under the starlight. Fire and sweat gushed from the springs of desire. Signals of oblivion from the wells of fear. Love is a disease of the mind. It gives a touch to illusions. It makes bodies shiver. It makes dreams bleed. And loneliness to creak the stairs at midnight and terrorise us. Pledge your eyes to the lake of Geneva, your laughter to the fireworks. When your nights become endless you will have me to remember.