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”
	        

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