On the ceiling of the flags
Flows a nameless river
She creeps into my imagination
A voice finds a way
That runs down my body
Path followed by yellow arrows
They bounce against each other
Explosion in an autumn sky
The wind takes them away
In the middle of clouds of floating waves Movement nude of meaning
Quartering at the sound of a crack
Keep the main axis
The link to Earth
A dance of no reason
A gift more than passion
The keys to the house are returned
Only the garden is enough,
Its flowers, its trees, its birds
And these words flowing to the edge of my skin
Happiness has no borders
He is a citizen of a country of pilgrims
Jean Christophe
October 22
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