Language langage
Un mot de francais…
This tool bends itself
As hot iron forged
In unmalleable forms
Of two points
Out there in the dark
That omit to me
Out of brained matter
From a world of infinity
Different for a moment solid entities
Until the clock clangs
All back to liquid form
Cooled down to
Some mercurial curse
Some forged reductive
Here speaking as
‘a word of french’
It is of this heavy penned s-word
That something else
Tells you this whisper between two worlds
Is not every word, sentence phrase a scream and then a whisper?
Some closed over concrete block
slipping?
Know. know, know,
Still.
No.
Speak, speak, speak
Move.
Yes.
Art-iculate.
Be.
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