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  • Fabrice Poussin

Fabrice Poussin, 2 poems


Hand on the cold blue steel

too late the thought came to stop

already the burning mixed with the soul

he rested at last on the old Persian.

Particles of dust, cheating the many cells

she numbed an unreal aching

now she dreams as she takes flight

leaving those young bones behind.

Dueling with an embattled self

he took the aim of a butcher friend

cutting and slicing through and through

cold as ice the thin sheet erased a story.

Inhaling all a living world dared to share

they lay in lone embrace under the shroud

as in a vacuum, their chests contracted

in a final song, unison of their eternal melody.

—Fabrice Poussin

Eternity in a Vise

I remember you from another time

I was so much like you then

waiting the grand opportunity

to come along, to walk beside you.

I can still imagine the place

though undefined it was in the spheres

a bed of clouds and sweet nectar

it was just a matter of when.

A speck in the universe was you

no larger was I then

hovering electron of light

I saw you in your little black dress.

Insignificant in a world of giants

we moved along with the waves of creation

parallel until finally we met

in a never-ending explosion of senses.

And now we hold eternity in a vise

on the infinite path traced for us

I will not forget the first time I saw you

and dreamed of you in that little black dress.

—Fabrice Poussin


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