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”

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