Ingrid St-Pierre

Les avalanches

Ingrid St-Pierre
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Les avalanches

Avalanches

Scale your Himalayan body
It has snowed in Room 203
Between the bars, Elliott Smith under the sheets
We have brought color to the white nights
Choreographing avalanches
 
And without any pretense of inelegance
Like dawns hidden in the September sky
I lose the north, my mind, my clothes
And on the points of my knuckles
You collect my skin of a lover
 
And when your breath has melted the glaciers
Burning, blazing naked in your arms like the summer sky
Your hands become gold miners, searching for beauty marks
If the end of the world is anywhere
I have found it in your neck
 
And when the small hours run out a bit too soon
Under the white sheets, shaped like an eskimo's home
Between the bars, Elliott Smith spins again
There are no more avalanches, no more dawns
Just the snow on the television
 
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shisa shisa
submitted on 3 Ago 2015 - 16:06
Aggiunto su richiesta di Emily WinnacottEmily Winnacott
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