My fingers tingle with words.
Enchanting concepts play out in my mind.
They are lost in folds of papier-mâché roses.
Just above me
a thousand Belle Lettrés are
pressed against the sky.

My fingers tingle with words.
Enchanting concepts play out in my mind.
They are lost in folds of papier-mâché roses.
Just above me
a thousand Belle Lettrés are
pressed against the sky.