Poetry

une fille d’érard

i came to criticize the architecture
of your marzipan shoulder
levator scapulae

but i got lost when it transformed into
a temple
now im late because i spent 9 months there
studying autumn leaves

in the end
i went to the museum to idle among the Rubens
but i did not see you hiding behind graces
nor feasts

then i stood on the stage in the opera house
sleep dawning behind my eyes i leaned
against the column of my harp
totally alone the universe shrunk before me
i yawned and realized they were waiting
for me to begin
i looked into my right palm to find Salzedo there
Renié was in my left
Debussy, or so it seemed, had sewn des ailes
into my fingertips
so i flew to it, une fille d’érard
skipping stones a gift from Yann Tiersen
skipping marelles a game from Andrès

i blinked awake in bed
the afternoon waning
maple leaves i stole from Hasselmans
lying upon the pillow
you’ve fallen asleep
thy fine cheek at rest
on my open thigh

the question i intended to ask
ive forgotten
i think ill just stay here
and let you explain
in details only you know
the ways i have never been.

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