& i have slew all of my French self:

the shelves of rock & the bises the guttural farmland that has nothing to spare us
with its hands in the heart of my son who is not yet
born but my gallic throes matter all the same i want to waltz with

my grandmother, bises, and i want to die in wine like they say we
all do

minus the cowardice

02/15/2010

Posted on 05/13/2011
Copyright © 2024 Ryan Narce