I CAN'T DO ANYTHING
Barely
Align
A few words
And even then
How far will I go down?
The point to the left is becoming vertical in my heart
To the right the muffled ecstasy is crashing to the ground
In the middle there's an axis of cold metal
And in my forehead leaning over it
The magnet
Because of which it will never come apart
The other person that I would like to be
Is the one that I am not
I cried out my limpidity over the mountain
My mountain is dead
I climbed and rose in between two simplicities
I was too long for them
They took me just the same
I climbed
But why
My cat smells like ozone
I am drunk with imperfect essences
My right to write is disappearing
Into the last zones of emptied nothingness
Of my SOUL
The right is disappearing
Itself
It's been a long time since there were any pictures
It's starting to have been a long time since there were any words
But those ones
Where are they coming from?
From my bones
From my flesh
Where they are PRINTED
I have the right to write but I can't
I can't write
I can only scrape the printed zones off my flesh
And watch them rot
I don't have the right to mutilate your language
To rape your tongue
I have a body
Said A.
To this body I need to belong
It is through its flesh that I am talking
It is in its bones that I structure
The mind up there has long been lost
In the convolutions of its existence
From this body I need to extract
I have to force it out
The little bit of language that is left
Because my gestures speak before they make
Me make the world around me impossible
I am afraid
That the little bit of fragile will disappear
I am sure
That the language of my body will come out
And then from my head again I will be able to reformulate
In the margins
The first-ever hypothesis of my creation
It's been a long time already since I frowned
My look is locked
The one it's looking at is just coming out
And it's terribly dark.
I have gathered the name which is coming
The parts of the symbol
Which meet in the corner of the eyes
The shaky bliss
To the face
The experience
At the tip of the fingers
And the number of celestial details
That I am holding
In the way they evaporate
I am coming.