Ti-jean leaves his poems
at the entrance to the cemetery
and the insane
misers of love
they try to strip
to letters and notes
of all silence
And it is that silence is the resolution
of our sevenths of decrease
and sensitive.
Ti-jean leaves his heart
right in the gate
that you open with your poetry;
that to elaborate
difficult tongue twisters
about the freedom to love each other.
The pouring rain
In my face
it's just
an echo
of you
and
your shadow:
Ti-jean.