Pulling myself back together, you stole me to myself
Bringing me back on the ground, extracting me
Not less well placed than the day before, not better
I stick to what I know
Not less well placed than the day before, not better
I stick to what I know
Nothing but the sound of confessions slow to grow
I love too much the strong
I love too much the top and its impulses
I love too much the idea that it is further
That by crawling through the possible ruins
One day, it shines
I love too much the strong
I love too much the top and its impulses
I love too much the idea that it is further
That by crawling through the possible ruins
One day, it shines
Pulling myself back together
On the line of my needs of binder and of murmur
My crusade in the height of unnecessary
Looking at myself without your approval
Not being afraid of the tetanization of your sullen lip
Not having to collapse under the unexpected
Pulling myself back together, staying where I may be absent
Attentive also to what is sleeping, the window
The oblivion sometimes
On the line of my needs of binder and of murmur
My crusade in the height of unnecessary
Looking at myself without your approval
Not being afraid of the tetanization of your sullen lip
Not having to collapse under the unexpected
Pulling myself back together, staying where I may be absent
Attentive also to what is sleeping, the window
The oblivion sometimes
April 2010