Pascaline Marre
auteur - photographe


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I waited for this image
For a long time
It would not come to me,
It would not come to us.

Too many layers would not allow it,
Covering our face, our body, our soul, our mind, our feelings;
Unwanted masks take form in place.
We pretend not to see them so as not to acknowledge the burden.

And we forget who we are
What we love
What we care for
Where we go.

We become blind
We walk as automatons,
Empty shells following their mechanic safe and sound.
Our body disappears
In the shadow of our feelings.

And in the need for you,
I would desperately search for your flame.
I would look into your eyes,
And there you were,
Not for long,
You would drop your layers of fear,
And we would meet at last.

Timeless bliss where our bodies escape us,
Animate in a magical harmony,
Spoken eyes, spoken mouths,
Senses awaken,
I seek refuge in the smell of your skin.

You let me approach you.
You trust me in raping your secret garden.
Sometimes, too violent
Desperately searching for you.
For the need to take you with me,
Forget everything,
Disappear to wake up anew.

In the cold morning,
Dressed with your armor,
Hiding your burning flame,
I measure the distance
That separates us
Once again.

I wake up
Feeling the emptiness of you,
Gather my strength,
Hide my inside child,
I am a grown woman.
I can feel, cry, laugh, love alone too.

Image from the series "Les Géantes" 2020 ©Pascaline Marre