The sluggishness of a day, passionate in vain,
catches me unexpected, and the air of a new fall
surprises me again.
The sun in its envious turning flatters me with an embrace.
Late season, ultimate attempt
of languorous mildness.
I observe myself crying, and I don’t see my face.
How have I been able to not recognize myself
in my true nature ?
I can’t say I’ve gotten lost, because I don’t know
if through the flowing of time, I have ever been able
to find myself .
I live halfway, suspended in an undefined space,
in the acute percipience of my senses,
being on the alert.
I am going away, I leave myself.
My strength slowly extinguishes itself,
engulfed by still parasites.
Eyes more empty, a more tired heart,
my mind chases after my soul in its
failed outbursts.
That’s why I survive under this sick sun,
driving myself back, refusing myself
the colour of a thought.
Via Flickr:
dress Entre Mares
noise
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJNH6l9APJU&feature=related
