22
black veins
in my foggy heart
the chimera of roses dies
a star sits down at my bedside
it is old and cracked
gray spiders move in file
toward the horizon with the black veins
they march as if it were a fairy’s funeral
the void heaves a sigh
my poor dreams have lost their wings
my poor dreams have lost their flames
they rub elbows
over the casket of my heart
and dream of gray crumbs
•
the day reappears
but my strength is gone
the sky descends and covers me
i open my eyes forever
meudon 1945 from “siege de Vair”