—Write to Rohmer
She needs snow-white paper, a blue dress like a fish A
ticking clock
Her pale blue legs melt between the pine ladders
Her singing mouth is placed on the train’s forehead in the rain
When she feels When she is hungry, her
neck is covered with sparkling cherry pits
(they are heavy, with
little honey-yellow arrowheads swimming in them)
when she releases her hands, her
two pale blue eyes always roll down into the lawn and
trees at the same time...
The moving ruins The
green hills are cloudy and sunny,
Claire, Claire,
everything will end perfectly
We are lying in the middle of the hands of the doomed harmless
She walks on the stream of scarabs with her
pinky finger that never repents
She is not on a sunny day, moving the soul
crying in the rain
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