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Jean Christophe DECAUX

Pilgrim

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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