I have not always had this certainty, this pessimism which reassures the best among us. There was br a time when my friends laughed at me. I was not the master of my words. A certain indifference, I br have not always known well what I wanted to say, but most often it was because I had nothing to br say. The necessity of speaking and the desire not to be heard. My life hanging only by a thread. br br There was a time when I seemed to understand nothing. My chains floated on the water. br br All my desires are born of my dreams. And I have proven my love with words. To what fantastic br creatures have I entrusted myself, in what dolorous and ravishing world has my imagination br enclosed me? I am sure of having been loved in the most mysterious of domains, my own. The br language of my love does not belong to human language, my human body does not touch the flesh br of my love. My amorous imagination has always been constant and high enough so that nothing br could attempt to convince me of error.