Behind These Walls: When Paris Turns Black to Green
December 5th 2006 I thirst for her. Her image is far, her reality existing elsewhere other than mine. Closing the eyes, I can see her skin—green, brown, yellows and autumnal oranges. She is silent in the patterns of passing weather. I can feel the wildness within her.
Open again, after the quick flashes of rapid eyelids, I’m in my cell grasping aged iron bars within a grand structure of concrete, brick an
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