Quitterie

Coming by train at night, i beg they won't need us, no more of shining bright, we are woman of staples, rock gentle and easy, say everything will be OK, it's a perfect delight, for each part of deliverance, our eyes have a kindness, fresh linen red wine fables, the souls of Sisyphus, wallets are placed on tables, we can talk of writers from Baeudelaire to Aschylus, kiss them quietly, by yellow walls or gables, shiniing in the Catacombs, we console the poor unable, our arms gentle serene.