He had just turned 18
He was beautifull like a child
Strong like a man
It was summer of course
And I counted, seeing him
My autumn nights
I fixed my hair
A little more black on my eyes
That made him laugh
When he came close to me
I would have given anything
To seduce him
He had just turned 18
That was the best argument
For his victory
He didn't talk to me about love
He thought that words of love
Were derisory
I told me: "I want you"
At the cinema, he had watched
"The game of love"
In the pit of an improvised bed
I discovered, astonished,
A superb heaven
He had just turned 18
That made him nearly insolent
Out of self-assurance
And while he put his clothes back on
Already conquered, I found
My loneliness
I would have liked to hold him back
However I let him leave
Without a gest
He told me: "It wasn't that bad"
With the infernal frankness
Of his youth
I fixed my hair
A little more black on my eyes
Out of habit
I had just forgotten
That I was twice 18 years old