Day breaks.
every 10 years.
these magnificent seascapes.
Under the carpets.
Under my tongue…
important blood stains
and jewels.
You are full of lies,
Heart of snow.
you ache for another
Bite my skull.
Sleep.
with the bottom of the sea.
and the wind from the cemetery.
My life flows like honey.
I like long stories.
I lived reasonably happy
I remember nothing.
The corpse cries for the corpse.
we’re craving something else.
Lapis-lazuli of the shadows
The absolute happiness of love.
when everything becomes metallic.
He crushed himself on the rocks.
which writhe beneath my skin.
You have besmirched my face with a
A million thanks.
Life is beautiful.
a miserable childhood.
within the… walls of… the castle.
He decided to enter
Void of my void.
I have two loves,
less grey, less dull.
atavistic and salvific.
We take part in this greyness, don’t we?
Such ideas the stars trigger
bloody and nocturnal,
like the smell of church candles
Why am I white like this?
like her heart.
in a glass of milk.
the death of his mother.
vespers of hospital blue.
emancipated and mercurial.
and it was the end of the world,
Your aroma diffuses itself…
She never existed.
We never get used to things,
My life may not be recounted with words.
flowing into the sea
by the foul and wicked rainwater
such harsh words slip out,
Today nothing is the same
Thus blind beauty.
in spite of the waves and pitfalls.
I fell very low, I confess.
the family jewels appear
they take light
So many graveyards calling
They were neglecting you.
They decided to break the vase
to make a world
The Virgin of Lourdes doesn’t exist.
Blood!
sharpens the menstrual organisation
By the hot smell of her confidence.
She could not bear your absence.
the windowpane without glass.
is evanescent and withered.
Subtitle Poetry 