"septicemia memoriei" de Marina Nicolaev
Déjà ils me guettent dans le sommeil
chemins lacustres
la sandale de sable de la mer
bâille de sa semelle humide et me dévore
en grignotant des huîtres bleues
phosphorescentes.
les genoux impatients des papillons
fatigués, transpirant sous le soleil
glissent épuisés
par l'architecture
incertaine de la vague
en se suicidant.
between two words the voice
loses its balance
glides on its reflection
in corners flashes of shadow
the speakers the writers buried
and in the mouth
the forgotten taste of crushed vowels
I was wondering if the scarf made last year
feels warm and soft to your neck
holding above the chin I have bitten and kissed
or
if the Victorian blanket I knitted
covers well your knees
the ones I caressed when they were sore and bruised and bleeding
or
if you’re still listening to
the carol I sang in a lower key
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