in grace to be

 

  The chariots of fire rolled down the mountain   
 carriers of delicate spirits   
 acute movement   
 of the cracking of the whips of dawn.      
  
 To the puffs of the golden breath   
 the jaws of memory   
 announced the laughter and the sun   
 in the brick frame.      
  
 All   
 yellowed from permissiveness   
 it was our first bite   
 inevitable words of honey.      
  
 The fingers slapped a song of yesteryear    
 on the dappled apron of a breeze    
 conducive to the cutting off of the eternal   
 begging for bread and the outrage of reality.            
  
 Imperceptible rustling of wings   
 reviled in the form of a chorale   
 the voices in acme   
 of a vertical chord.      
  
 Prompt to build access to the holy of holies   
 impulse seized the sands of instinct   
 careful lasse   
 deportations at the border.      
  
 With both hands
 the cooing chorus
 clashed sounds and lights
 on the pegs of an ephemeral language.
  
 Let's no longer feed tricks    
 turbaned caravans   
 from the ascent of the trip   
 our shores approached.     
  
 let's be  " Up to date "   
 in front of the black marble platform   
 our steps resounding with cries   
 teenagers on the fringes of the chapter.      
  
 Little voice of chocolate chips   
 smeared to dodge   
 outpourings from a heart   
 come into resistance.      
  
 A thousand times revealed   
 the coalman's faith   
 wobbly and rebellious calligraphy   
 deserves gamey night of dreams.      
  
 A note buries   
 neither perfect nor secret  
 door to door towards entry into hope   
 ultimate humility of the gesture of affidé.      
  
 Foot to foot   
 in the morning dew   
 the hammer of promises weighs   
 frolicking without shadow desecration.      
  
 There are circumstantiated shards   
 simplicity rounded   
 only to channel too much   
 the kiss of peace night.      
  
 Tenant of vocalizations   
 such a field of poppies under the wind   
 to please to displease   
 we were a wave of wheat on the hill.      
  
 Unfold the wedding tablecloth   
 listening at night   
 in the candle flame   
 for old age allowed.     
  
 in grace to be   
 and the pommel and the blade   
 passed through the eye of the needle   
 the forest on fire.      
  
  
 820
    
   
  


   

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