Picnic

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Why is the black,
who created me.
The end of the world

black raven
these poor souls.
You’re listed as escapees.

and they that hear the words
became blood.
around the other’s neck.

Those eyes and the mouths
There were so many…
…a great mountain burning

I dreamed lots of black
There’s no such thing.
I didn’t dream.

Is this a mouth?
Would you like to come inside?
I’ll wash away all your sins.

This is the last rain to fall.
But it made me feel
I prefer hell.

The world’s last kiss.
punishment cell.
The earth.

the mouth.
Can you unzip me and
The Word of God.

Non believers all go to hell.
She was always
Hot, I suppose.

I stabbed him in the back.
captains and mighty men,
from now on.

We were identical twins.
You smell like a killer.
And the third part of the sea

Papa and Mamma.
It rained that day,
And I saw an angel standing

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Nights of Cabiria

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The sea is calm, transparent.
that aroused his interest.
In the end, he played the part alone.
with tears streaming down.

I learned that,
The strangest adventures,
filled with flowers.
I’d have held your head under

The paths are full of flowers.
is beautiful in the woods.
It created an imaginary landscape,
our initials on the trees?

There was a collage
and his distress.
the poor soul.
died when I was little.

Look at these flowers.
soaked in blood.
saturated with salt and iodine.
She must have swallowed a lot.

I felt I had been melted down
I already confessed yesterday.
When the lights came up…
Dead bodies don’t

She’s bleeding.
Hold her under the stomach.
impaled by the daggers.
Everything for love.

these experiments with magnetism
about sin and redemption…
From the first images, I was stunned
I don’t even remember

I was living a fairy tale.
slept under an arch.
Hear the wind whistling.
It was incredibly warm and human.

It’s the open sea now.
and I evoked a world
of this ballet of courtesans.
and a halo around my head.

She’ll have mercy on you.
who falls in love…
I never saw flowers
without losing hope in good.

Some things cannot be touched
And I was a little self-conscious
That means nothing to her.
A northern type.

You oughta hear my heart beating.
about miracles and divine grace.
Hey, Dark Hair.
I’ll marry you.

her faith in love unwavering.
the cynical mask
she always defies the waves.
to keep alive her faith in men.

The boat is waiting. The sea is calm,
where they sing special songs
purity and innocence…
And so it went on for five years.

I felt like I had a magic wand,
is that deep inside,
in the theater,
my wildest dreams.

What a strange light.
and delicate love scene.
The waves are swelling.
I was thrown

Your hand is freezing.
with my long black hair…
Drop the crutches.
Don’t be afraid.

She’s got seven souls, like a cat.
started to tear out pages…
a kind of superstitious value…
What a mambo.

By the end, she began to cry
Then he took a pencil
the screenplay.
I couldn’t describe

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Hour of the Wolf

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Give me your hand.
undefinable…
last years.
of your bodies

Release your hair,
dream all afternoon.
And the choir responds
I’m not dangerous.

My father said:
new batteries for the radio
something from my childhood.
Nothing big, just us

I hung the painting upside-down
And walked towards the forest.
It is a part of my solitude.
To commit new crimes.

warmest admirers.
enjoying each other’s company.
nightmares come to us.
I stutter some excuses…

I want to tell you :
The mirror is broken,
Horrible things
in the beginning of summer.

A little shower is nice on anybody.
unbuttoned my pants,
And then the milk.
The wounds never heal.

She gave me her hand,
or just a mask.
It went on for 5 years.
every night.

the ocean is calm and quiet
On shoeboxes and shelves,
when I lie alone
and washed my wound.

I can feel it.
I own this island.
I have a scar.
Without me wanting it, I have

Everything is unreal, meaningless.
Our life together for seven years…
Nothing. I was thinking about
And of the big silent darkness,

Sometimes he would say he felt
Scared of the dark in a way.
When will light
Tell me.

Your eyes are red,
and yet not yourself.
The invisible choir responds:
We are afraid.

He wrote for hours.
spying, in jealousy.
A curve like Amor
Like this summer.

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The Rite

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Mom opened the door and said to me:
I’m afraid of him.
And I want to cry.

The lights die out.
because you can’t satisfy me.
and I forgive you.

All this disturbed us,
physical pains,
and a miscarriage.

Animated by an obscure desire
and the choking twilight
I’m magic to learn

The anguish of your husband
The sorrow is light,
Pretend to discover that little by little.

She undressed herself and, I quote,
The body burning of a desire
that wounds and destabilizes me.

My first memories
tape recorders.
Head of bird, eyes of homme

the wind rises on the sea.
I believed to suffocate.
that impotence.

My name isn’t Claudia.
But inside me,
Disappointment, tenderness…

For lack of imagination
Penetrate her with your left hand
in an absolute silence.

You float unceasingly.
apart from a stammering due
to kiss you,

She’ll have several orgasms.
A kind of conversation.
with tenderness.

All this is very beautiful,
our feelings and our reactions.
After, kiss her as you want.

He had a dirty mine
had died of a heart failure.
it burns and bleeds.

She says that you satisfy her.
I have my angels and my demons.
Do they sleep together?

I believe.
I won’t touch you,
But I see a black mark

Poetry does not interest me.
Throat and lung cancer.
Yes, that too.

The torrential rain
The world leaves of pieces,
but I must speak to somebody.

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The Mother and the Whore

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My heart is an autumn flower.
There’s a note inside.
Look at the unfaithful wife,
That beautiful myopic stare.
That blacktop highway,
I was just killing time waiting

she has blue eyes
I don’t see a soul.
broken, so be careful.
Chewing on a word, an idea…
then shot herself in the mouth.
A slick melodrama.

Women like that are never that pretty.
alone in the center of the room,
I feel you in me so deeply, so near.
There are just cunts, genitals.
overgrown with weeds,
I hate that scent.

So, you’re making love with death.
With you it was super-cool!
My mouth isn’t bad either,
black, and against everything
and I liked that hardness,
my little scrap of song.

I love your neck.
It’s good. It doesn’t burn at all.
You say very beautiful things.
obsessions and contradictions:
Your body is a garden…
Who are the roses for, me?

I used to steal books as a child.
I fucked a lot of doctors.
A group of deaf-mutes
vagabonds
people who suffer in silence.
There’s no one left. They’ve vanished…

Do you see rivers, rushing waterfalls?
Your shitty ex-lover, who left?
lets anyone fuck her,
Then look at the ceiling.
all cracked and fissured,
disgrace in their bellies.

dragged around for five years.
She pretended to be very busy.
Desired a lot, and fucked, meaninglessly.
It suits you. A bandage
I don’t want to make love this way.
How I hate you

And you must understand.
She doesn’t have her own myth.
this film is a real film,
Time is passing,
As you see, I’m in black. In
Your life?

Lungs are very pretty. They’re all pink.
apparently the heat is like a furnace
A maximum of priests came
that I cannot swallow,
Fuck in hospitals, fuck anywhere,
And finally, not at all.

They went to a hotel. They made love.
of great sadness or death.
The only real amnesty
My sadness isn’t a reproach, you know…
She’ll piece the story together.
pretty horrible at times.

People don’t matter.
human faces or voices,
it’s a shit, it’s anything, dust…
I love you.
How long… Five years? Seven years?
Ruined.

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Heat Haze Theatre

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She’s lost in the darkness
She left a message and vanished.
I’ve suddenly changed my mind.
getting letters like that.
Then I found you standing like a ghost.
More mysterious, more real.

But love is transitory and fragile.
Death will settle the matter.
A woman disappeared.
please accept my condolences.
drifting down the river.
A woman once swallowed

‘women’s souls’.
Sex organs with eyes
It was all a cheap sham.
You’re a doll with a hole.
This time we die as lovers.
in the rising vapour.

First she became ill.
Swaying wildly
bringing flowers
into my dreams.
Did she die?
It’s me.

As he watched her,
With blue eyes.
from the hospital window
She was combing her hair
a bladder cherry in her mouth.
Returning to dust.

I’d love to bed her.
Grave flowers for a lady.
Lay with his lady
From here to Hell.
It’s just some phantom show.
then it shimmers into black.

Darling.
You’re telling lies.
I saw the funeral with my own eyes.
The smell of blood intoxicates you,
But it was a dream.
until I entered the forest.

She crossed a field
Your inner self is in there.
She’s married too.
It was as brief as fireworks.
your true selves.
Drowned bodies.

The inner self.
with its white eyes.
The strings of love are cut.
Birds become weak
Why do dreams have to end?
Why must I die too?

I encountered a blonde geisha,
Snow woman.
Come on, open the curtain.
Accept this as punishment.
Women can be stubborn.
while soaking wet.

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A Man Vanishes

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Once she bit me until I bled.
Snaggletoothed.
She looked like a mistress,
Something warm.
the entrance.
someone’s lover.

When I read his love letters…
happiness,
That was about 1958.
they were together.
Couples don’t feel true
disappear suddenly.

She’s weakened.
hardened.
Ours is a fictitious story, too.
She insisted that I never
I could never switch over
I still feel that emptiness.

She does look at herself
resemble the photograph.
with dust and hairs.
a camera.
that itself is a truth.
It was kind of love triangle.

The physique, face, cheeks
somewhat unnatural lines.
She poisoned him
Once… no, a couple of times.
A body usually surfaces
They weren’t arm in arm.

It’s been so long.
be in need of someone else.
very fragile.
celestial world.
If she stops haunting him,
The photos reinforce it.

I had a nightmare last night.
in the daytime.
we weren’t intimate.
that I suffered for nothing.
Men often meet your gaze but
But it’s a disgrace to

His memories would be clear,
trusted.
But not last April.
Date of abscondence:
before marriage.
being photographed

He didn’t come in April.
why he vanished.
He also had his feelings.
and is tanned by the snow.
He may be unable to face things…
This is nothing to me,

You starve for human contact.
since he’d trusted her.
So in place of your mothers
You were inside.
It’s a complete mystery how
She killed him because she

At the time she acted
always walked to the station.
No one is here for
somewhere.
Even at inconvenient hours,
disgrace for her family.

“I can’t live without you.”
She didn’t notice it.
I can only say that life is
telling lies.
She seems to have lost
In other words, you are

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