Rear Window






The open window lets escape your shadow
Between the arches vibrates the sound of other voices
The days push themselves and pile up in my memory angles
The horizon is smooth. I am not there

The open window lets escape your shadow
The succession of accosting attempts
Brings me to a dock where the air is still inert
The horizon is wide. I pursue myself inside of it

The breeze coming from elsewhere makes the ventails strike
The tense rhythm of silence between two systoles
Beats under my trembling heels
The horizon is a flaw. I'm seeing myself inside of it

The open window lets the slow noises come in
And the returns, and the passages
The other rockings of some solid nights
The horizon is sometimes sweet. I'm looking for myself inside of it




 July 2015