archives 2023 / 2024





18 septembre 2024

She seems naïve, all delicate. Apparent bones and hidden strength. A part-time spy in disguise, who could crawls under your bed. She seems so brittle and belittled next to the monumental laws she’s answering to, no other else. She went through specific events and went to peculiar places. Mind this woman for she has a fetish for switching faces : last night she cuts herself bangs to pair with boots she never wears. It will grow back, her hair’s never the same. She cuts her hair herself, solemnly; on a rush, leaving no traces behind. And you should be warned that a girl who feels no remorse facing inches matter on the floor, is a woman you’ll never know in the flesh, through the gems of her past. Unless you’re ready to keep up with the blow dries and a curly mind; Peroxided fanatism, straightened costume. See her through the perpetual winds of change, and she’ll embrace in front of you her true messy shape



10 aout 2024

Here comes the reign of the never ending days, paving the way for the brightest of nights. We’re so alike, I fear the snakes and the lizards which exist to praise the sun solely; scaled monks with a restless mind, lively, taking a break - all the patterns are ours to recognize, all feelings ours to jeopardize when, again; it’ll be hiatus’ turn to shine I already know the mountain tops are trusting cold beds for memories, a silken coffin safe from a heated heart, a place to preserve our prayers until next time. I wanna burry my feet into the sand, to get the nicest tan until my skin be burnt enough to defy winter’s return. Heaven of rest for the cold-blooded, haunted nightmare for a child of the Sun I fear them, for they will prevail. They’ll be numb and dormant and safe



25 juillet 2024

Solely the needed seeds
will prevail to erect a field.
I was born during a summer storm,
aiming for a revenge September yearly brings.
Harder the thunderbolts,
stronger the buds to come



06 juin 2024

Sheets are clean, hair
untangled; food's organic
and the kitchen’s immaculate.
It’s peaceful and terribly quiet.
Not a single step aside,
not a single risky move outside.
At least you’re sober now,
you can tell by the amount of water
you sip through the day. You swam all summer
and never been this tanned. You're carrying fewer and fewer stories
along the years. Truth is
water slides down your body now;
your past might appear strangely wave-free.
Pieces of your skin float outside somewhere; unsigned
as you keep on swallowing every memory that could resurface.
You're not getting any nutrients from it,
so keen to make the most of a meal;
how useless is the past to a lazy river



17 avril 2024

I'm being domesticated,
each day a little more;
whilst my favorite flowers are the ones that die
when you put them in a vase.
At least my roses never tried
to stab any skin whatsoever.
They didn't try to deflate
my sluggish gut either : (