In the winter, we will leave in a small pink railway carriage
With blue cushions.
We will be comfortable. A nest of mad kisses lies
In each soft corner.
You will close your eyes, in order not to see, through the glass,
The evening shadows making faces,
Those snarling monstrosities, a populace
Of black demons and black wolves.
Then you will feel your cheek scratched...
A little kiss, like a mad spider,
Will run around your neck...
And you will say to me: "Get it!, as you bend your neck;
-And we will take a long time to find that creature
-Which travels a great deal...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
found your blog by accident, when researching the patti smith book i'm reading,, thanks to you i'm now going to sit on the beach in the sun and read some Rimbaud. cheers :)
ReplyDelete