The air is a root. <br />The stones are filled with tenderness. bravo. <br />bravo. the stones are filled with air. <br />the stones are watery branches. <br />on the stones replacing the mouth <br />grows the skeleton of a leaf. bravo. <br />A stone voice face to face and foot to foot <br />with a stone glance. <br />the stones are tormented like flesh <br />the stones are clouds for their second <br />nature dances to them on their third nose. <br />bravo. bravo. <br />when the stones scratch themselves, nails grow <br />on the roots. bravo. bravo. <br />the stones woke to eat the exact <br />hour<br /><br />Jean Arp<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-air-is-a-root/
