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Residual Matter

By Sophie Rouméas

Photography by Serts

I left this morning on

the day train of my thoughts—

my dreams of creativity,


your mood was not all sunshine, 

there were clouds in your sky

that you would have liked to

point out to me.


Oblivious to your weather,

absorbed by the sky outside,

I walked out the door.


I carry you very high

in my heart

even when leaving the port

of our intimacy.


You were waiting for me to see

the shadowy distance

separating you 

from yourself.


Evening finds us—

me closer to my dreams, 

you, further from yours.


A smile on the edge of my lips,

I approach you for a kiss.


You look at me, a little bitter.

I have so many joys to announce to you,

I'm outside of the reach of your sadness,

you feel outside of my reality.


Sometimes, this residual matter

we are not aware of

is created from emotions and thoughts.


Today I am in joy, and you are in pain.


When we are unaligned for a time,

the one who feels lighter

has a choice:

an invitation to raise awareness, 

her or his gaze turned toward the other.


The sharing of joy can wait,

difficulty cannot.


Now, I am facing the mirror as night falls.

My mind calms.

I refocus on the center of us.

I see your face again,

your drawn features,

I'm reviewing your morning energy. 

Finally, finally, I turn to you.


I walk toward our bed, our boat.

I enter our port, well-moored.

You left this morning in full swell,

and tonight, you have yet to return.


I take your hand in silence,

I listen to your heart’s hurt rhythm. 

I synchronize with your vibration

and welcome your frustration.


My love, I'm sorry.

If you want to talk to me,

I’m listening now.

You turn to me.


Finally, there she is.


I open the window to our universe,

we enter the starry sky together.

This evening,

we are transforming

copper dust into gold



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