Trafika Europe 12 - French Bon-Bons

To Each Unfolding Leaf

Sunk into a dream—you’re still being led back unawares toward the daughters of May the forest is burning all the way into your house Outdoors the patrolling jackdaws blunt their rectrices their remiges relentlessly question the face of the winds soon the rain will utter its name hesitant language and unfinished sentences

soon the favorite cliffs will offer their palms —oblique mirrors to the rainbow

May I touch those lost lips the centauries on the breasts a sheen of leaves at those thighs May I cover myself with scales

conversing with moistness Waiting—O chilly gestures joined under the sun of alders May the heart swim where the trout swims

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