Hurle Tant

                                        Une partie d'aile
                                                S'est cassée,

                                                         Un saut

                                                               Vers le ciel,
                                                                     Une autre peau  
                                                                         À aimer,

                                                                              Á apprivoiser.
                                                                   Un échange

                                                      De maladresse
                                                            Et se fondre
                                                                 Dans la paresse,
                                                                       À l'abri

                                                                           Dans la pénombre,

                                                                                 Prés de l’ange.

                                                                            Un oubli

                                                                   Suit l’ombre,
                                                                        Laisse aller
                                                                              Autour,
                                                                                  À contre-jour,
                                                                                         La peine
                                                                                            Foudroyant

                                                                                               La haine.

                                                                                     Des battements

                                                                               Lourds

                                                                          Étouffent

                                                                   Le souffle

                                                              Sourd.

                                                               Frappe tant.

                                                          Des habits 
                                                              Jetés,
                                                                 Un intérieur 
                                                                     Froissé,

                                                                         Un coeur 
                                                                             Déchiré,

                                                                                 Des rêves 
                                                                                   Brisés,
                                                                                      Une vie 
                                                                                          Eclatée.        

                                                                                 Les ailes

                                                                 Telles quelles,
                                                   Aux oubliés,
                                           Jetées.
                                                    Dans un tunnel,
                                                                Enfui au loin,
                                                                          La voix hurle
                                                                                  En silence.
                                                                           Les pleurs
                                                                Rougeâtres

                                                          Tracent

                                                    Un coeur
                                              De glace.
                                                        Le cri de la bête

                                                                  Eclate
                                                                        Et fait mal.
                                                                    Ses échos
                                                               Se fondent
                                                        Sur chacun

                                               De mes tissus.

                                                     Son hurlement

                                                 Atteint

                                            L'être 

                                      Frissonnant,

                                 Au coin
                           Sans issu, 
                      Planqué 

                Et paralysé

         De souffrance.

                      L'intérieur froissé
                                  Et écartelé,
                                            Les membres

                                                    Gèlent

                                                         Et tremblent.
                                                   Á jamais
                                          Désordonnée,

                                   Laissée

                         Telle quelle,
                                       L'existence
                                                   Avec pénitence.