Woodworking #1

I am nobody's daughter.
My hips are clever.
My joints are full.
Don't look at me, cruel
but feed me with old food.

My neck touches my brother's arm, my sister's time
as a way of releasing
our growing groovie roots.

We are day by day, said under said
more and more ready to read
between blood on the ground
and sound of the town.

We are.
She as he.
Here as now.

We are, as big He says
not responsable of what it means.
And our road looks unknown
like an easy dance,
an easy dance.

Septembre 2008

Woodworking #7

Black head
Orange hears
Yellow chest
Remember to put your own mask
before to helping others with theirs.

Novembre 2007