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short friendship poem

je ne brûle aucun encens
je meurs
il est allé
je l'aime
du soleil ni des étoiles
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
je dédaigne mes amis davantage que vous
la noblesse de la mort encore
vécu à côté de la rive
l'enfant qui a jeté la feuille après feuille
la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
Ă  minuit
je sais ce que vous allez dire
une brume entraînait une réduction

 



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