The street lamps keep talking

out loud under my eye-lids,
those stuck-up cigarette butts

throwing their orange whispers
at the windows
come crashing onto my living

room floor
flooding my couch and my bed,

my raft! Hanging on tight
to my pillow with one eye shut

hoping I’ll make it to the other

side sometime tonight, before
morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Photo : Jean-Michel HATTON