Trafika Europe 12 - French Bon-Bons

13 POEMS By Martine Morillon-Carreau Translated by Clayton McKee

The moon rose in the decline of the season What had we come here to do I understood right away - let’s leave I beg you - this unbelievable dishonesty the secret mechanism that rocks the heart side to side further so that I would not like the feeling of being misled the silence black the funereal lights on the chessboard It is better this way Everything which is illuminated carries an obscure exigence

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