knocks at my thought
from the thought of the ocean
a paddle
lost by a boat in a memory wave
like a submerged rock surrounded by walls
where from a whimper departs
silences go out to greet him in the evening
witnesses being only the mornings
lost through ports
no one hears his grief
tuck to his chest like a poniard
love is brutal with us
these days
and you know
when you feel my thoughts
hunting yours
in the blue white of the morning
you’re right
we are not
what we fear the most
not even those unhappy dolls
of the 21st century
running in meaningless circles
but rather what we miss
when we use reasonable absurdities
to justify and apease
the horrific need
for each other
when you feel my thoughts
hurting yours
in the red dark of the dusk
and you glow in
those nights
Like water
on a thousand-petalled flower
untouched by sin, above de mud
its head held high
pure and undefiled in the sun
its mist whole world illuminates
with golden blue
right within your heart
the egg of gold
like a brilliant
rising from the bosom of the water
Daughter of the Ocean of Milk
fearless enough to wrest
the secrets of Life and Death
ainsi soit-il en toutes lettres
un livre sans abri
le même voyageur oublié sans étoile
au bord d’un seul mot comme un grain de blé sur mon coeur
son âme gardant tous les nuages d’un monde vendu
aux cieux
pour la dernière fois
il regardait ses mains trop vertes mais pas assez longues
commençant à pousser chaque nuit
Comentarii aleatorii