Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

if you'd gonna disappear, in a random evening gloom, my sweet one, my bitter one, I'd sail crazy on the sea-foam, with a sack that's full of clay, and a back-full of twig-sprigs, to reshape you from beginning with the power of my hand; (long and monotonous labor, just to bring you back to life,  lovely femme adored woman), me, a sick Pygmalion... — c'mon, wander, Galatea (long and monotonous labor, just to bring you back to life, lovely femme adored woman) [x2] If you'd gonna disappear, be your death made of life only, my sweet one, my bitter one, I'd go to the ice's countries to rebuild you out of icicles, dressing you into a hoarfrost, — (after that, be free to leave wherever your dreams may lead); If you'd gonna truly fall at the moment of a high reveal, I would quietly come to you, recompose you out of angels; (I would quietly come to you,  recompose you out of angels) [x2] After all this, I will leave... — (humiliated and bamboozled) to the side w

Now, I'm more than ever desolated since I feel richer by own you, and on my forehead sit the sun and moon, Now, it is, to me, worst and best too. And there's no one who might help us, the people barely keep up with their own, and on a white wall with the silent muses, Black Bishops seek to do a moonlight flit. [and I love you with pity and with horror thinking that all you got deserves to me as a Bishop Of White, which captures the Black Queen for eternity.] x2 In stations happen madcap accidents sad freights come in midsummer, and me, I am full of reckless gestures to get you closer and to terrify you. All around, just aberrant perspectives, fragile kids lug their parents on the back, old men's gray bones sledding on slopes and Albatrosses fly to atrophied horizons. [and I love you with pity and with horror thinking that all you got deserves to me as a Bishop Of White, which captures the Black Queen for eternity.] x2 I miss you and I'm looking for your face in e