Even on mud or grasses,

PSQF (Paris Sans Quitter Ma Fenêtre) – Lucien Hervé

Even on mud or grasses,

when you go walking with me I hear stones
that gnash and grinding roughly underfoot, 
like walking on a driveway
down the paths of graveyards.
 
Great chunks have rubbed each other into grit.
Some slivers, too, shaved thin enough
the marble has rolled up
into itself,
shatter when stepped on.
 
Blood from a stone, how smooth will smooth enough?
What does your chisel know? 
Your skin, where is it now? And what makes you
think you can soften marble?
 
 
PSQF (Paris Sans Quitter Ma Fenêtre) – Lucien Hervé
you never call, you never write...

(get in touch!)
you never call, you never write...

(get in touch!)