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short poem

sous un arbre de propagation de châtaigne
plantons
vous a fait entendent parler jamais
elle a éclaté le vin féroce
ce qui nous fera maintenant
tandis que je tenais l'écoute, discrètement sourde-muette
ce que je souhaite remarquer
pour pouvoir voir chaque côté de chaque question
je suis une femme
le ciel
le corps peut confiner
je descends les chemins de jardin
l'odeur du s'est levée si faux, les épines si vraies
j'ai dit

 



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