CARTE BLANCHE #3
Is it a color
Or a mood?
Is it a day
Or a season?
Is it a state
Or a feeling?
It tastes like salt
A mix of sea salt
When you come out of a high wave
And tears salt
When you arise of a good cry
It smells like fire
A mix of a campfire
Comforting and Containable
And wildfire
Suffocating and untammed
It is both poignant and volatile
It goes through me
It flies over me
She is a familiar friend
She looks like autumn
She blends into the night
She inspires and breathes me as she is sucking me inside
I know her, I greet her, I hold her
I write with her, I rime with her, I hum with her
She is the child of full days leaving you empty
Or is it reversed
She sings Léo Ferré in my heart
As she is painting my soul
She is nameless but I call her
She is ageless but I honour her
She is my melancholia, my spleen, my solitude
She is that feeling making me a poet
Wrecking my wit
She falls asleep with me She wakes me up
Unchanged but different
She is me, I am her
Sometimes shinny, Sometimes constant
She is her, I am me
Unstable and inconsistent
Mutable and magician
Faithfull and fleeting
Justine T. Annezo – October 24th, 2025 – GTM+2
Fleeting Wor(l)ds 