Women of wheat and the death of the artist

Women of wheat
Dance
With death
When your eyes
Ringed with gold
On the contrary
Are resting

The blackened horizon
Sleeps
Under the rain
Your sad hands seek
The ear of corn
Sleepwalking, shaking
Wisely
On my chest

The women of wheat
Advance In hand-to-hand combat
With the night
Your artistic hands search
My heart of feathers
Of tar and fire

The dark horizon
Widens
You sleep In the fire
You sleep
Wisely
In hand-to-hand combat
With the death
Of your lover

The women of wheat
Dance
With gold
In my hair

When my eyes are rimmed
Of tar and death
On the contrary
Rest in the night
In the night

Quentin Mouron
Paris, September 2022