Copper and Enamel

I am hanged
in suspended copper and enamel.
When
due to the shortest phrase
by the side of the city,
without trial
you eliminate the flower's moist,
the shakes of the moon
grows much more colorful.

Write to me
in a maximum of ten lines
that, you love me enough!


Memory

I grow chilly
when earth advances.
Spread seeds at the arctic pole !
Because the only survivor of this event
is the moisture of your body
and a historical garden
which will fall
into a pit.


Vacation

I don't say clearly
But
demolish me
near the Milky Way!

Beside the junks of sunset
like the days of telepathy
throughout holidays
demolish me!
Like each time
I cross a minefield.


Index of Pain

You love me
by endorsing essays
and with an unstable pulse.
My blood
had rained graphically
from the puppet road
up to solar almanacs.
This premature infant
was not supposed
to be sprayed
on the hollow band.
Graft me in primeval manner!
and let rain remove
In the index of pain,
the poster of flower
on the empty wagons.
I want your rainy shirt
to be checkered.


Silence

At the end of each sentence
silent cinema
is playing.
Learn fencing !
although Kourasawa has died.
The storm of the silver lion
will carry away the dusts.
The geometry turns over
and you
will love me
with a subject
arising from red desire .


Bridge

Like a bridge
there is always one
who causes distance .
there is always one
who doesn ' t know
and talks too much .

The Moon and the scent of a plant ;
The haste of the Milky Way
in the night ' s body.
A man in the telephone booth
and
silence .


Grotesque

Till you comb the sun
with the shoes of nostalgia
I ' m waiting for the running wind
behind the fruits .
Speak to me !
a stranger is hidden
in your melodies .
Speak to me
and tell me at which side of this grotesque
the bullet vest
will lose its color?



Heavy – hearted (1)

You ,
booth ,
and the newspapers that
join the night .
Take care of yourself !
I have only a few numbers
and a cellular change
in the gullet of the words
that I haven ' t told you.
Repeat me
in your melodies !

Rain

When it doesn ' t rain
the earth
puts magical circles
in the reed ' s mouth.
I know your voice .
Buy the calendar of hundred years later ,
see what is the date of Monday !
Invite me to an acorn
and only say : Hello !
Twelve is the destiny of all clocks .


The road of the world (1)

I had entrusted you
to the storm
to the oxygen and moss .
Does the world begin with two zeroes ?
or
go to an end
without you ?
The excited winter
will not carry
your design away ,
but whose beginning will be
the last shot ?

I draw the curtain aside
the night close up
collapses .