Doing all of this
that is called life
a little distractedly
while lying in bed
with one’s arms stretching
to the trembling ceiling
*first posted in June 2018, revised in June 2019
to do all this*
Archives pour la catégorie visual poetry
my bruises and emotions
I will wear proudly
my injuries from the wars,
my bruises and my flaws,
my retreats and tearing
my emotions, absolutely
the wooden cross*
… and suddenly,
in front of the wooden cross,
precariously planted, right there,
the heart shrinks with emotion,
for the beautiful Ida
twig
I will interrupt the sun
at the highest hour
like a fragile twig
and there will be shadow
I will travel standing
I will travel, standing
in the silence, pink,
of the horizon that dares
soft layouts.
Empty, empty, hands
and the pockets, penniless,
and the fear of villains
in the evening behind the locks
