1 - 8 of 8
-
-
Soldiers who know no wine and no penumbra
behead the sirens on seas of lead. -
You call on the old light that stays on the brow,
not descending to the mouth or the heart of man. -
the horizon blooming with sky
in clear pools of cinnabar green -
People are playing with life.
People are playing with death.
1 - 8 of 8
