The long nails are blue at the ends of your ivory fingers. Upon the codex…

Glaucous moonlight and you! Riefenstahl … You writhe, Leni, unprim the bolting saddle. Foxes in…

From this small word ‘amour’ so heavy in its vowels, slice out the letter ‘o’…

Bruegel looks upon the quotidian: gazing, with pierced study at a white feather adrift through…

Inoculated against tears as if breathing were a consummate agony and using my features with…