I live for the joy of watching you.
My eyes are my heart, my eyes are my lungs.
If I close them when you pass, my whole body cries out for air.
Emilie, you pass me at times without knowing…
You cannot imagine my nervousness, my love, my gaze.
I hate the people who step between us then love them when they move and I see you again.
Emilie… you brush past me and, each time, I feel such joy.
Emilie, you brush past me and, each time, I suffer.
Too much love and not enough courage make me a ghost.
My fine prose makes an ugly anonymous letter.
Like a blank cheque, it has no value.
Allow me to send it without expectations but hoping that the joy of being loved will transport you.
You’re beautiful, perplexing, never disappointing.
I’ll never possess you. I’m inconsolable.
All the same, Emilie, please accept my sincere, feverish and anonymous feelings.