L\u2019autre soir, j\u2019avais vingt ans,
\nune fillette agripp\u00e9e \u00e0 mon flanc.
\nNous marchions \u00e0 la brunante,
\nlan\u00e7ant aux quatre vents
\nnotre trop-plein de tourments.<\/p>\n
L\u2019enfant et moi avancions sur un sentier
\nnos quatre yeux verts amplement mouill\u00e9s.
\nJ\u2019adorais la pluie diluant nos larmes,
\nl\u2019horizon mouill\u00e9, ses nuages trou\u00e9s.<\/p>\n
Prisonni\u00e8re d\u2019un po\u00e8me inimaginable,
\nma pauvre t\u00eate cherchait des id\u00e9es,
\ndes fuites mirifiques, des \u00eeles dor\u00e9es.
\nUn d\u00e9sespoir quasi irracontable.<\/p>\n
Sur ma hanche, \u00e0 demi endormie,
\nl\u2019enfant becquetait mon cou.
\nSes petits bras pendants,
\nses jambes ballantes.<\/p>\n
Mon c\u0153ur, mes bras, mes jambes,
\ntout mon corps, des roseaux flottants.
\nMes folies, mes r\u00eaves, mes d\u00e9sirs,
\ndes extravagances d\u2019antan.<\/p>\n
Fuyant l\u2019homme malveillant,
\nnous esp\u00e9rions gagner le large.
\nDescendre vers le grand oc\u00e9an,
\ntel l\u2019anc\u00eatre dans sa barge.<\/p>\n
Sur une route d\u00e9roul\u00e9e \u00e0 l\u2019improviste,
\nl\u2019inqui\u00e9tude m\u2019emp\u00eache d\u2019avancer.
\nHululements de loups et cris de hiboux.
\nL\u2019oc\u00e9an noir, ses flots en courroux.<\/p>\n
Feuilles qui tombent, plumes qui volent,
\ntoutes mes belles certitudes s\u2019envolent.
\nSeule demeure une histoire irracontable,
\nun sauve-qui-peut quasi impensable.<\/p>\n
L\u2019homme malin et beaucoup trop beau;
\nson c\u0153ur malfaisant attif\u00e9 d\u2019oripeaux.
\nPar fragments, m\u2019arrivent quelques lignes.
\nSa m\u00e8re, sa s\u0153ur, quelques belles-s\u0153urs.<\/p>\n
Les lumi\u00e8res de la ville s\u2019\u00e9teignent.
\nDevant nous, l\u2019horizon tombe dans le vide.
\nL\u2019enfant vite s\u2019enrobe de frimas,
\ncherchant la porte de mon ventre.<\/p>\n
Ce soir encore la cruaut\u00e9 du r\u00e9el
\nnous emp\u00eache de grimper sur la lune,
\nde d\u00e9crocher une \u00e9toile,
\nde glisser sur un nuage,
\net de sauter dans l\u2019oc\u00e9an bleut\u00e9.<\/p>\n
Je suis en promenade, se dit mon corps.
\nL\u00e0-haut, sur un nuage, l\u2019astre jaune m\u2019\u00e9blouit.
\nLa lumi\u00e8re entre dans mes dix doigts.
\nElle ruisselle dans le cou de la fillette.
\nEt j\u2019\u00e9cris!
\n\u2014\u00a0\u00ab\u00a0Maman!\u00a0\u00bb, crie l\u2019enfant.<\/p>\n
Cora
\n\u2764<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
L\u2019autre soir, j\u2019avais vingt ans, une fillette agripp\u00e9e \u00e0 mon flanc. Nous […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":414,"featured_media":40748,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-40747","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lettre-mme-cora"],"acf":{"img_en":"","contenu_en":"Just the other night, I was twenty,\r\na young girl clinging to my side.\r\nWe were walking at dusk,\r\nscattering in the wind\r\nour excess of torments.\r\n\r\nThe child and I walked on a path\r\nour four green eyes visibly moist.\r\nI loved the rain that washed our tears,\r\nthe misty horizon, its pierced clouds.\r\n\r\nPrisoner of an unimaginable poem,\r\nmy poor mind searching for ideas,\r\nmarvellous escapes, golden islands.\r\nA tale of despair almost impossible to share.\r\n\r\nOn my hip, half-asleep,\r\nthe child nuzzles my neck.\r\nHer small arms hanging,\r\nher thin legs dangling.\r\n\r\nMy heart, my arms, my legs,\r\nmy entire body, floating reeds.\r\nMy follies, my dreams, my desires,\r\nthe extravagances of yesteryear.\r\n\r\nFleeing the vicious man,\r\nWe hoped to reach the open sea.\r\nDescending towards the great ocean,\r\nlike the ancestor in his barge.\r\n\r\nOn a road aimlessly traced,\r\nworry stops me from advancing.\r\nWolfs howl and owls who.\r\nThe ocean black, its waves raging.\r\n\r\nFalling leaves, flying feathers,\r\nall my beautiful certitudes disappear.\r\nAll that remains is an untellable tale,\r\nan almost inconceivable run-for-your-life!\r\n\r\nThe spiteful man is unforgivably handsome,\r\nhis evil heart tawdrily dressed.\r\nA few lines come to me in fragments.\r\nHis mother, his sister, a few sisters-in-law.\r\n\r\nThe city lights go dark.\r\nThe horizon falls into the void before us.\r\nThe child covered suddenly in frost\r\nseeks the door to my belly.\r\n\r\nAgain tonight, reality\u2019s cruelty\r\nobstructs our path to the moon,\r\nprevents us from catching a star,\r\nsliding over the tops of clouds,\r\nand jumping into the ocean blue.\r\n\r\n\u201cI\u2019m on a stroll,\u201d my body tells itself.\r\nUp there, on a cloud, the yellow star dazzles me.\r\nThe light slips between my ten fingers.\r\nIt streams down the little girl\u2019s neck.\r\nAnd I write!\r\n\u2014\u00a0\u201cMom!,\u201d she cries out.\r\n\r\nCora\r\n\u2764"},"yoast_head":"\n