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Damien Spleeters
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'Reading of Papillon'
'Papillon'
<< Butterfly Express Dust >> I could not do anything, / all I had to do was wishing to be born, / only as a burn on your body. / From here, I wonder if you can make me / disappear... / Disappear. / I ask the question. / Will it be long ? / Because I feel like / something's wrong / with this location. / But WHAT ? / There are other rules : / the light is red, / it doesn't go away. / It is necessary to wear a mask, / to breathe. / I do not risk removing it. / No guardians, / no locks. / Nobody. / I'm locked up. / No doubts. // When I close my eyes, / in the mazes of my veins, / red light too. / And the splash of your skin on my fingers, / at the mouth of the blood, the burns, of the mouth smoke / a dead cat in the throat. / Eclectic brothels, / magical carousels, / the eyes. / So I said to myself : / << I have a good mind to be dead. >> / But especially not the sparkle, not the flesh. / That you make me disappear, / like a magician. // Can you ? / Charting a path of desire / And stop my heart / The beatings / The words / ? / Erase / My name from your lips / My steps from your body // In the belly of the eyes, / the dissonant butterfly / Butterfly / Express / Dust / With his eyelids-wings / Burns silent / Like a star nailed in sky // But here there's not hundred ways / To see the setting sun / Drink turpentine at tea time / Two drops in two haunted wells / Setting fire to entrancing banners / In the skull a spur / To entice the imagination / Quintessence of the senses / Sensitive decay hidden from delight / Welded tongues on steamed window / Can you do that ? / Make me see the strange mechanism / Of the electric curves / While your shadow and I make love / Without knowing how it looks // Nonsense, sour bile and gall / Shattered, sky's perfum / You reveal yourself already unveiled / A thrill induces the avatar of an effervescent body // Can you break the spell off / with dice ? / Can you crystallize chance / in the cocoon of mystery ? // Yes, it does feel like some thing is a mistake / It is because my heart is full of bellies
http://transere.com
Damien Spleeters is a poet, writer and videomaker from Brussels, Belgium. In 2005, Maelstrom Editions published his bookleg "Amen", his first collection of poems. Later that year, he releases his video L'appel. In 2007, "Transere" is published, his first novel. Damien Spleeters has performed in several poetry festivals in Europe and is a member of the interventionist group RéEvolution Poétique. He lives and works in Brussels.
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