where d'you think you're going
my lungs cried out,
my skin has dried in my own salt,
my dreams transpired hope,
hope colored the words,
words have exposed my feelings,
forgetting to transform them
(in facts)
‧
that's how you became a poetry,
for forever, — immortal,
since forever, — mine
‧
so, in tandem with all that, —
where d'you think you're going
when you're stuck here, —
through my mind,
through my soul,
on my lips,
through my eyes,
in my dreams,
through my hopes,
through my feelings,
in my guts,
through my words,
).png "poetic frisson ‧ un p'tit je ne sais quoi")
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