April

François Vieil De Born

A door,

Ajar,

Peonies in a vase,

A gleam under the tree,

A whisper in your ear;

Some milk for the cat,

Circles under your eyes,

Tiles attacked by the hail,

and the fever that breaks;

A desire for desire,

A muddied pair of boots,

A candle on a chest,

Aspirin in a glass;

A toad,

A jump,

A book under the rain,

A lark's call of alert,

Coffee cups on the chest;

You're way stronger than me,

Clear cold room heady scents,

And a cry and a cry.

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