Scenes from France
I sleep quite violently waking warm with thunder
And I'm the magician's girl.
Buttoning my cuffs at the wrist,
And split from my neck to my knees,
How badly I photograph.
To dream of a duel, speaking furious in Latin, the scald scar of water.
Woke snug as a virgin quietly humming.
Writer/s: The Promise Ring
