another week goes by

NO reaction at all to letting me see you. Maybe slowly we will forget each other, bit by bit? Papa is at wits end. Its no good being in pain all the time. So Papa will write about other things for the time being.

See, Papa has been listening to some albums by Carla Bruni. Ms Bruni sings and writes with some intelligence and sensitivity which would be notable for the average songwriter. Papa likes "Le toi du moi" which is hyper-clever. For a bit of fun, Papa has got some of the lyrics down here.

T'es le Laurel de mon Hardy
T'es le plaisir de mon soupir
T'es la moustache de mon Trotski
T'es tous les éclats de mon rire
Tu es le chant de ma sirène
Tu es le sang et moi la veine
T'es le jamais de mon toujours
T'es mon amour t'es mon amour

translated (by Papa, so please excuse errors, if any)

You're the Laurel of my Hardy
You're the pleasure of my sigh
You're my mustache of my Trotsky
You are the breaking of my laugh
You are the song of my siren
You are the blood and I''m the vein
You're the never of my always
You're my love you're my love

Whimsical song, she keeps the counterpoint in every line, save and except "T'es mon amour t'es mon amour". As there are always two sides to the coin, but the coin itself is one (Zen like eh?) As you were my eyes when I was blind ,and you were my light in the darkness.

For this line, there is no synonym nor antonyms, no counterparty, no opposites. Allegorically there is no replacement, it stands on its own, singular and unique. A throwaway line, slipped in so casually seemingly. A quiet intelligence. So to my little girl. I have no replacement for my feelings for you.

T'es mon amour t'es mon amour


I will see you soon.