I Want
I want every day of the year
every day of life
every half hour
every 5 minutes
you tell me: I love you.
Hearing you say: I love you,
I believe, at that moment, that I am loved.
In the previous moment
and the next,
how to know?
I want you to repeat to me to exhaustion
that you love me that you love me that you love me.
Otherwise, the love evaporates
because by not saying: I love you,
you deny
extinguish
your love for me.
I demand from you the perpetual communication.
I demand nothing but this,
this always, this more and more each time.
I want to be loved by and in your word
I don't know any other way except this
to recognize the loving gift,
the perfect way to know oneself loved:
love at the root of the word
and in its emission,
love
jumping from the national language,
love
made sound
spatial vibration.
At the moment you don't tell me:
I love you,
I inexorably know
that you stopped loving me,
that you never loved me before.
If you don't urgently repeat to me
I love youiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou,
a truth you have just unearthed,
I rush into chaos,
that collection of objects of non-love.
