Benoît Pioulard - I Walked into the Blackness and Built a Fire

So Etched in Memory

And Relent

Of Everything That Rhymes

As Would a Weaver

Shut-Ins on Sunday See

The Very Edge of Its Flame

Initial B.P.

A Shade of Celadon

Is in Its Clearest Form

Whose Palms Create

The Gilded Fear That Guides the Flow

With No Advantage

That Wounded Weathered

An Image Apart from Ourselves

Under the Break Arch

Седая ночь

Никто

КАК MOMMY

Лесник

По барам

Dance Monkey

Хищница

Девочка, танцуй

Алёшка

Пошла жара

Можно я с тобой

МАЛИНОВАЯ ЛАДА

Кукла колдуна

Птичка

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