Camille PellicerL'ARTLA PHILOSOPHIELA RADIOLES CHRONIQUES RADIOLes poèmes de CamillePRODUCTIONSSUICIDE FM

There is a strange girl in my body

by Camille Pellicer

There is a strange girl in my body,

It’s not me, I swear, twirling around my gentle neck,

Brisk and discreet

She whispers to my ear 

Alas my dear, it’s too late to disappear

I am alone and perplex with this strange alien in me

Is she a guest or a hateful enemy?

I shall stay still, I shall be patient but what will happen to me?

There is a strange girl in my body,

I catch her staring at me

She commands the savage angels to collect my tears

Savours my pain and feasts on my fears

Flaunting her flesh to the celestial sphere

She wants my trust, my permission, she wants my blessing, my submission

That is not love as love is no possession, love is no condition, love is no violation 

One must allow the lamentations of the profound self to achieve success in my inmost consciousness

There is a strange girl in my body, 

It’s not me I swear,

Tell her to stop torturing me,

I surrender with her, I become her, I let go in all her perfections, in all her imperfections

My little blue dress is blaming me, 

Why on earth would you abandon me? 

It is heartbreaking really, what if I am not ready?  

She gathers the depth, the strength, the darkness, the sweet violence, singing the songs of the reckless lovers who speak of ecstasy beyond my obscene fantasies and candid animosity

Love be revive with sublimity and exaltation behind that mask that I can no longer carry

Her beating heart slowly intoxicates me, something new has entered in me, shy perplexity, naive bestiality, still, pure debauchery

There is a strange girl in my body,

Her sweetness gently tickles my throat, my chest, my breast, down my stomach, I find her roaring in my wombs as I come with a taste exploding in my mouth like a fine fruit filling my tongue, gorging my mouth with a suave pure sensation of my own self. And she burns, she burns and burns so vividly that I cannot touch her scorching flesh anymore, she is on fire even in the midst of ice, rubbing her spirit against my Lolita lips 

Those who hide their little secrets shamefully, confuse devil immorality with divine energy

The sweetest flesh of the rotten flower, the putrid smile on the decaying beauty, the ingenue memory of who I was and who I could be

As all lovely things, she will soon have an ending

Who do you want to be? She asks me 

A wife, a spouse, a tender lady lover, a beautiful bride, a dark sweet sugar?

No. Can I be a gypsy, can I be a dandy, a dashing hard candy? Harmonic mean submerged in gasoline, please, please for my sweet sixteen, can I be libertine, can I be the Queen ?

Who would love a fool, a lovely pretty fool, a disguised demoiselle behind a gentle veil, a whore perhaps? 

There is a strange girl in my body

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