christophe

photo: emilian c

__As a child i fell ill from hunger and fear,
i tear shreds of skin from my lips,
in my memory,
i lick traces of salt of freshness and i still walk.
i sit on a doorstep looking for warmth,
i stagger deliriously as to the piper's tune.
i looking for a white room
when i heard the sentences of tones,
infinite and fast destiny.
C.G for M.P

*


we had found more things
than we beleive before us..

that is the old-blood that
we can find in what we call "love".

as mothers and plants.

we had found more sun's pieces before us,
in reality,we found it in our beast-memory,
as precious plants disorder,
as this childhood 's morning with sun-lines
on the start of the walls.

i beleive my twin,
both hands of waters
both languages of sisters
same fountains of bloods.

this words means to me and moved me,
because i need,
this world means to me
because i lived more under
the earth

as my birth-mark

as our inhuman draw's Loves

as my need to explode
on a skin's dances and eyes

if you are a prince
i will and i am a vertige
with fast destiny,
as my first words.

i express this "need" in flash,
this flashs calling music.

and this words are "loss of words"
because we read between lines,
as now.
C.G for M.P