white & black

black and white
too clear
feels like a trap.

white and black
better?
as if in the reversal
i might find my way back.

but shades of grey
feel more honest;
a lazy apocalypse
slowly developing
over the paradise
we were promised.

now the pen and the ink disagree,
with each other
and/or with me,
as i insist, like a fool,
on writing a new page.

à peine les glissements s’éclaire
le gris nuage,
chair de poule,
j’espère.