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sad poem

souffleur de verre de temps
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
oranges de plumaison nubian bleu-noires
short et doux, et nous sommes arrivés à la fin de lui
comme égaliser tombe
au-dessus des dessus de toit emballez les ombres des nuages
j'ai eu une crainte dans ma vie

 



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