Trafika Europe 12 - French Bon-Bons

Pierre Voélin

Where the Apiaries are Closing

Orion’s wounds are festering We’re not at the end of our pains

Dual man is smitten with his weariness

No longer will he whittle the reed of syllables no longer will he cover us with his pity

For your escort the bleeding branches for your thirst water from a jug Mares appealing in vain —their horseshoes etched on your throat

You’re followed by more tender eyes their eyelashes blended with the night

But that fur a breath of wind softly ruffles

As soon as they are finished off—their necks broken the animals again begin another silence

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