Tag Archives: french

Marguerite Duras

Mapped, in glaring veins, cut, to secrete lucid text– Yes, love, I bleed light. Advertisements

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Total Eclipse

Courtship between worlds, Love’s ravels tethered to smoke– Dream eclipses burn.

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Boy

At the time he didn’t know it, but stalking the radiant specter of morninglight as he sprinted down a cobbled alley, he left part of himself behind in a jigsaw piece of puddle that later, years later, he would reflect … Continue reading

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Julie

I. Eyes. When I called them winterblue, you said, oh really, the O a fat bright balloon twisted into a curious animal. Really, I insisted, and explained how, when written, I’d compound winter and blue, words holding hands to get … Continue reading

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