Sands Hotel
by Benoît Labourdette
I remember
you
very well,
sitting,
on that little armchair,
you know,
the round back armchair,
before
this small table,
there,
you had
spent
time.
You had
handled
your phone,
you
were
tilted.
There
was
this
bluish
light
upon,
upon your face.
Do you remember ?
You couldn't see yourself.
Me,
I was sitting,
behind you,
on this small couch
and then it was funny.
I saw you, in front of me,
with the back to me, and also
I could feel
your reflection next to me in the mirror.
You in front of me
and your reflection by my side.
I was thinking about nothing.
I felt lonely.
You know.
You were there, by my side
but so far away,
away from me.
How astounding
our lives are !
Oh, it's silly to say that.
These phones
bringing us together
and finally separating us, as well.
Perhaps scattering us ?
So, I can't find the whole of you
anymore.
All I have is your face
and this light upon it,
And then, you know,
I got up,
I laid down on the white bed.
There, I probably printed
the shape of my body,
and then I slowly looked up
and gradually,
it was white
that replaced the universe,
the mirror,
the couch,
and even you.
I took off,
I probably fell asleep.
You left,
and, there over,
in that unfamiliar place,
you loved the other one.
The other one who urged you,
while I, I let you be free.
Movie, image, sound, text, voice Benoît Labourdette
Sous-titres : Leny Müh