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friend poetry

elle était beaucoup et beaucoup d'il y a une année
sous ma fenêtre dans une rue de ville
je dois dire bonne nuit
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
je fais ma monture, mais personne ne sait
je me suis tenu prêt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
l'air est comme un papillon
tandis que je tenais l'écoute, discrètement sourde-muette
doucement pleurant
avant le saint en bronze solennel

 



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