Raison perdue
Juggling with drops of thought
In a silent hilly self.
Drawing a cigarette that I will never smoke
A tattered doll on a windy beach
Who stares at the waves’ surf
White and broken
Soul taking liberties
With a crunchy landscape
Melting in the sand.
The strings of harmony in my brain
Are loose as grasshoppers’ smiles
I thought there was something to find
Somewhere, in our lost garden.
I woke up in a deserted light of rusty specks
I called you, and you were waiting in the wrong place
In the wrong time, in senseless candour.
I shouted over the shyness of time
On a silly but stable sea-hearted rock.
Opening a window at which I will never show
Naked on a white fur carpet of idiosyncrasies
Which nurtures ambitions
In place of me
Eyes eager for meeting a miracle
With a sour echo
Dissolving in the walls.
The past of instincts on my fingertips
is feeble as an old man cry
I saw a truth, once, that was sticky
As squeezed petals on cold marble.
I stood up in the soft gentle breeze of pearly drops
Out again, looking for my muse coming in desire
And I stopped there
at the edge of divinity.
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