Age

Dawn, goodbye! I leave the haunted woods, I accost the roads, torrid crosses. A blessing foliage hides me. August is unbreached like a millstone.

Retain the panoramic view, breathe space and reel off mechanically the smokes.

I shall choose a precarious enclosure: you bestride the boxwood as needed. The province of warm begonias cackles, sorts. How nicely gather the griffins in curly flounced skirts!

Where to seek it, after the fountains? Wrongly I trust its collar of bubbles...

Eyes before the sweet peas.

*

Shirts cold on the chair. A silk hat inaugurates with reflections my pursuit. Man... A mirror avenges you and vanquished treats me as unclothed. The moment returns to patinate the flesh.

Houses, I free myself from dry walls. One helps! A tender bed is teased with crowns.

Attain the overwhelming poetry of stages.

André Breton