I still spread illusions
on the spiral of hours
in a wandering thursday
bearing an uncertain name
turned towards yesterday
pilgrim in myself
climbing smiles
and hanging on words

Still scrutinizing the sky
and the earth
searching for a stranger
finding only words ripped from us
put to sleep between
a paper cloud
and a whistle of wind

You’ve prived them of life
the very day
I stripped myself of all the thoughts
caught in the vertigo of shivers
in the verge of disintegration
bowing their heads
to the pagan God of your memmories

I lost the sky
don’t feel the earth
time is the only presence
around me
a lunatic that wanders on streets
evoking demons

A sunny thursday
the time which forgot to rhyme
only one of us breathing in his belly,
one and solitary,
and the uncanny laughter
of the april epilogue


In this spring which digests the truth
the air lost its sunny scent
and willowy perfume
gone is the aroma of amnesia petals,
the breeze of verses broken
from a chain of fairy-tales

Intuitive thoughts regarding
your reflection in myself
increase the tide in my verbal sea
I drown in a uniform silence
which fades in itself,
fades in you
never in us,
redundantly in me