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broken heart poem

sous un arbre de propagation de châtaigne
c'est l'arsenal
c'est la chanson de la jeunesse
à l'aube, il a dit
elle était beaucoup et beaucoup d'il y a une année
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
voici ne tomber aucune lumière
jamais dans toute ma vie
remplacez la vision du plaisir
puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort


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