Sartre said: "No one is a writer for having decided to say certain things, but for having decided to say them in a certain way." I am so close to the way you talk about certain things and it's because your poems breathe close to me. In this poem inhabits the voice of a person in love who waits for someone who sometimes comes and goes, changing everything and in that leaving, undermines the skin of the other turning him into a bird without wings. It is always a pleasure to read you, my dear poet.
I think we inhabit the same world - love Sartre, even though I disagree with him and seem closer to Camus. Your responses are a continuation of my poems, Nancy