Femme qui dort

Acrylic and India ink on paper.

In the washed-out twilight of night,

A silhouette of light falls asleep.
The India ink whispers to the shadows,
While the acrylic shapes her body.
She curls up within herself,
A sacred gesture of surrender and shelter,
Eyelids closed upon the mystery,
Where dreams and infinity dance.
Totem face, suspended gaze,
She carries silence like a talisman.
Between the strength of black and the grace of white,
She traces the gentle geometry of rest.
A celestial and motionless presence,
That gently watches over the fading world.