#PoetryTakeMeAway

And love? We need to wash ourselves
Of this hereditary filth
Where our astral lice
Continue to sprawl

The organ, the organ that strikes the wind
The swell of the furious sea
Are like the deep melody
Of this disconcerting dream

Of Her, of us, or of this soul
That we invited to the feast
You tell us who is the deceived
O Inspirer of infamies

She who sleeps in my bed
And shares the air of my room
Can throw dice on the table
The very sky of my mind

Antonin Artaud