“Lost on your own in the night
with no sightno need to fear
when you’re near to the light.”
I have been listening to the same song for so long… So many hours with the exact same soundtrack, repeated over and over again. I have just realised it is the same song I was listening to with you, even if you were not by my side then. But you were there anyway, I felt it. And you did as well…
All of a sudden, listening to the song and starring at the frozen picture in black and white of the clip, I somehow felt your hand again, your fingers around my fingers. Even if I don’t know the way they look, I do recognise their touch. There was also the wind… Swinging by and playing with my hair like the first time I heard the song with you. The wind kept kissing my skin, rolling down and up around our tied hands, trying to keep us apart and pushing us a bit closer to each other.
Even if we were just walking by the invisible river of my oniria, in a Paris of our own, I had this feeling that with each step forward, my soul was also moving inside my body, making new moves with the rythm of the beating of my heart and the whisper of the breeze. That music, always that song… As if it were part of the scene of the improvised theather of our minds. Separated by the distance of our maps and united by lyrics we both ran through at the same time.
I wonder how much truth there is in two hands that have never faced each other but already met. Two hands that have held the same key at some point to open a common door that let them to the same bridge. Because we both have the power to travel with music and we had the chance to go on the same trip, even if it was for a short period of time. Holding hands.
It is amazing the power of music… Or is it the power of a hand?