Page 8 - soliloque_pour_elles

I look for my buried wounds
under the joys that I heal
I look for my fault

the one through which everything happens long before I am
the perpetrator I look for my manipulative structure by force
of arms I look I look
until the narrowing of the walls shrinking of the bronchi
exorbitation of globes tightening of the skin

I am looking for the phone I am looking for an episode
I am looking for the episode the memory
the memory the episode

in the feverishness of the good days the working days I look
for what oblivion gives me to look for what I am looking for
the improbable clarity the alacrity of the movement that
embraces the vertical space

I look for what I will never find
I look for the time I look for a long time

it's ail nothingjust to make noise

I look for a territory I look for flight
in the darkness of idle hands in the dust of the soothing
surnmer

gust of aridity freezes the gesture of looking

I look for the lost key under my skin the artery under the
rock the relief under the sand I look for the poppies under
the rain the guardian voices under the ash

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