those who are dead for us
legs and feet reduced to bones
are they not the origin of our souls ?
dictées par les herpès et les arpes
I would be the bass of incense as my senses mean
and I beg the corpse of life the straight wave, the wagnerian spot
moving always in a fulgurant shadow, this and all I need
forgotten as I am in the mood of universal sex.
To dead I put my spell, to arise before me and talk
to partner me, to kiss me
first mead, and then sweet wine, water mixed with white flour
je l'ai fait tant des fois, to laugh before death and tease her
chaque fois que je respire