par Kit Schluter
To enter the chamber through which one must pass, the skin should be soft and appropriate to be fashioned into leather. Remove the hair in waxed strands, and lace the body’s enclosures shut with this twine.
We say the same of the sky, its patchwork of amorphous signatures—
To find oneself beneath this sky is to close it with its own appendages, its thumbs of rain that extend from the center of its palm, to recognize a voice but see a different body.
That’s a dark horizon, as in: where are you moving toward?
Marie Bornasse, poème de la louche à la bouche
à propos de Marie Bornasse de Cécile Richard publié aux éditions du Dernier télégramme
par Charles Pennequin