Demi-Décla

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Assis sur le canapé, au crépuscule, elle m’avait sollicité,
Pour s’informer sur la profondeur de mes sentiments
« Par rapport à nous, par rapport à moi », avait-elle déclaré.
J’étais confus, on ne s’était connu que pour un mois,
On s’était choisi pour le père Noël secret au boulot,
Et c’était l’heure de se donner le cadeau.

Gertrude saisit ma main férocement, elle chatouilla ma joue,
Et elle s’empara de mon genou.
Je lui avouai que c’était clair, c’était si transparent
« Tu sais bien comment je me sens ? ».
Elle s’écria
« Mais comment bon sang ? On le dit tous les deux sur trois, ça te va ? »
Cela était le moment parfait pour une déclaration, grandiose et belle
C’était Noël quand même, j’étais un peu ivre, donc je me rapprochai d’elle.

Avec élan et passion,
Fière de mon secret et mes efforts pendant ma quête, je lui révèle la boîte ébène :
« Il y a quelque chose que j’ai toujours voulu t’avouer »
« Oui, allez, quoi ! »
Larmes aux yeux, elle rapproche sa tête de la mienne.
Avec tout mon désir, je l’ouvre et je déclare, 1, 2, 3 :

« Je t’aime » - dit-elle.
Et moi : « T’es grave cool, j’ai deux tickets pour Barcelona. » (2, 12, sans e-caduc)
Elle me frappe en pleurant. « T’es vraiment bête Bertrand. » (12)
« Tu ne m’aime donc pas ? » - « Bah quoi ? Ne pas aimer ? (12)

C’est deux billets pour la finale, que j’ai là ! » (12)

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