I BRING YOU THE HONEY
The residents close their doors. It is evening now.
I cook for you, with a little oil,
with a little lemon, with fresh herbs.
I give you both my hands, you give me
a few strawberries, it is your favorite season, the light is thick,
the neighbors are asleep,
the dogs are licking their fur.
I give you a little milk,
the meat must be well done.
The apples must be well done,
we find them very tender.
They are full of the water,
full of sugars and of red.
We must stir our soups and our stomachs when they fall asleep.
The evening keeps our saliva in its little mouth, it sinks into our eyes, you don’t say much, it sinks into our cheeks, the evening, your eyes are fragile, they are black, they sink into the kitchen.
I set down a pot of honey, it is night on the table.