I want to rush every grain of sand
and the exact air that is left
so that it stops being a wait,
mute chain of dream and deception,
flesh in a hurry , delays the fragile crack of time passing, passing.
I want to live that brief comedy
under the beat of the last act,
noise of embers felt in the veins,< br/>cold from so much daily dying,
quiet path with dry footprints
let the walking in the step burn.
I want to drink in one fell swoop the tenuous strength that barely keep pushing
and feed forgotten chimeras,
sleeping clouds, primary toys,
rag bear, get up and sin
from your dust cured of horrors.

SOUMETTRE LES CORRECTIONS