Géraldine Cario

I’VE ALWAYS BEEN AFRAID OF HAVING TWINS

I promised I wouldn’t talk about it. We won’t talk about it. We won’t think about it. Life will pass in parallel to what is unsaid. We will take the box, we will deposit forbidden images in it, they turn nights livid, infertile. Days also.

We will put the box in a secure place. We will not get involved in its irradiations. They erase the outlines of any reality. We will not try to understand, we will not try to know. It contains every emptiness, no word, no silence, never any answer. None of those that make men.

We will not search. We will not search anymore. We will say that we have not found, that we do not know, that we forgot. We will say, everything is for the better in the best possible world. We will open no possibility.

We will throw away the key. By measure of safety, all those that look like it. Besides we will not approach either.

The box will be mute. It is each day heavier. It will feel nothing. I promised. The world is gravity. It will feel nothing. The promise holds me.

Precocious futures watch me. I smile at them.