It is not only the big socks that pulls my socks off, it is also the little cold words, dropped at the last moment, the little abandons, little things, little things like that.
little cold words
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around the truth
We will tiptoe around the truth to avoid disturbing it, we will close our eyes above all, so as not to see the rest, silence is almost better, no one needs to know everything, the the unconscious exists for a reason. I will find you (the sea)
I will find you
beyond the (white) walls
the stalls,
it must be the blue of the sky
or I can sniff the sea
like a smart dog certainly
Certainly you dance
between the donkey and the jeweler
and the high perched baskets
filled with barley and wheat
Like a new beginning of
the daily history
Answering the call.
In a corner of the living room
Curl up silently
in a corner of the living room
then recover from one's rubble
straighten one's pants and
shake off the crumbs left on the front
realising one's scars in the evening
at bedtime 