created_at: 2019-09-15

Alexandre

Alexandre, my trembling wings.

Your dead are in the fields.

Our fight was stretched on the forest.

A wealth of shadow lies beneath the woodland hills.

An earth that is not mine.

Skies

A sky became a wave,

and suddenly the breeze -

azure floating on the hills.

Our music was not of a god or spirit, not of that colour of the sea.

falafel

My falafel from the seas and palm-trees.

This magic, the stars have been held for.

Mysterious prophets and priests return to temptation.

Sleepy and strong, lay the falafel.