Claire.

You, who have multiplied the stars to me

And have said that their light

takes thousands of years to reach us,

even when they're dead.

You will live.

I remember

your snowy hands upon my wounds,

the water of your eyes to soak my kisses.

Scotland is enslaved to the red of the blood,

And yet,

red is even my kilt,

and black, as black as death;

but I am not a slave, not I.

Je suis prest.

I own no home to give you.

I won't cradle our child in my arms.

I only own my soul.

And it's such a relief to know you are not born yet.

I devoured your light.

I love you beyond time, like those stars.

When I'll be dead

my light, that was yours before, will be looking for you. And you'll have it back.

How huge is the room of the soul

which you built for us, Sassenach.

It cradle me like a child.

Is there a baby on your chest now?

Is still Frank at your side?

I think to have dreamt him; it wasn't Black Jack, because the memory didn't hurt.

I saw you both together, he seemed to be such a good man.

I burn in your memory, no one creature could

bring me your scent.

But your blood flows in mine.

Blood of my Blood, Bones of my Bones.

And even if you love another man, I know

that a place for me is always existed in you.

And one moment's love won't drive away neither win Time's love.

I'm in the Sky, Sassenach.

Maybe I won't deserve Paradise, but see, I've found a shortcut: I travel

into your present.

Such distant and different from mine,

it was your world to make you.

Now I understand what I've desired from you.

You being so different, so different from me.

You teaching me to be a man.

Claire, Bright, the meaning of your name.

My beautiful brunet with feline eyes

and a soft white body.

Water star.

Love of my guts,

relief in pain,

my happy damnation.

Even if I can't kiss you, I make love to you each night.

Even if I can't look at you, my world has colors just because you directed your glance to it.

I come back to these stones as a pilgrim.

My love is a pagan ritual.

Claire, your name melts like spring,

it touches my lips like snow.

I do not have rest when I close my eyes. I cling to the air and suffocate, struggling in the dream of having you back.

But just because of this, the very moment you appear on the horizon of my heart, it's like feeling you in my flesh, joined you like in the past, always.

Tied to not be dissolved.

Nevermore, God, nevermore.

I'm inside you and I take you, love, and I forget that you're divine thinking that I could be too, wrongly, 'cause I'm a man.

I think of you and I take you and I remember you and I keep you tight stick to my heart. My heart is torn apart, but it beats, it keeps beating.

I own you and I'm not leaving you, wherever you are, light years from here.

Years, Light, you: Universe is huge because of you.

At last a tired rest comes, as after a rough embrace. No scratches from you, no bites from your lips, but you have scratched and bite me under my skin, in the heart. I can sleep then, hugging your icon; I'm satisfied, surrendered, dead.

My white dove,

silver moon with warm

whisky eyes, aye, whisky eyes,

how grand you are.

You always can find me,

even if you're not born yet.

You possess my dreams.

My little, adored brunet,

my bride, mo nighean donn.