Benoît Pioulard - Shut-Ins on Sunday See

The Very Edge of Its Flame

Is in Its Clearest Form

The Gilded Fear That Guides the Flow

An Image Apart from Ourselves

Under the Break Arch

Whose Palms Create

Anchor as the Muse

And Relent

Of Everything That Rhymes

Initial B.P.

So Etched in Memory

A Shade of Celadon

As Would a Weaver

That Wounded Weathered

With No Advantage

Mocha

Savaş (The War)

Life

SeveTrillion

Sabela

Trap Or Die

get him back!

Wotcha Gonna Do

Twisted

What I Might Do

Hayat Şaşırtır!

Ezinye

Indlela

Muntu wami

OUT THE MUD