The first time I saw you, you were about ten years old.

Looking ahead of me

I saw you in the crowd among these moving bodies.

You are one of those who take the light for a procession.

So I only saw you.

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A few years later, here we are, I'll find you and call you.

On the phone, you are fiery, passionate, you embrace life and you are not afraid of anything.

I feel the fire burning inside you, so I wait impatiently.

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Our meeting is shattering, a blaze.

I do not know if it has been years or a few minutes that we repeat this SILVER SHOW.

Time is running out.

5 min before the show - You put your hands on my face looking me in the eyes because I can't hear anything, "it's now, we'll show them"

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5 min after the start of the show - I open the door,  I see you on stage.

I see, moved, everything that the public still does not know about you.

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Your presence in this parade, seemed insane, alongside 96-year-old women.

So you wanted to know each person in order to understand, see, listen.

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  You came and then the fire was rekindled.

You enlightened them.

That night, life had a body and you danced for them.

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  I watch you dance now, having become a man, not a child,

like in an arena where you would bring your dreams to light.

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But what I saw above all,  It's your  perpetual questioning.

When you believe you are in doubt, you work harder to prove to yourself that you are only right, in all humility.

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You marvel at the world, which is waiting for you.

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Cassandra.

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