Let's see,
Quand les tigres parlent dans les robes bleues, they are desperate and humid. That Cat is a fish and its home is being de-fuminized with anti-kindness and other human natures. A netted black veil gives up as Cat spectates its own funeral. Lead puddle bear-clawing its translucent fence. Blaming opaque Tigers who wear rosy oblivious masks for the sorry conviction of uneasy fish.
And,
Ou je vais?
(Elysium)
Between yellow lines,
bells cheat
by tapping on asphalt.
Looking on white
space is lying about
leaving dead notes.
The workings of bells
are late, coldness chimes
rivers, trees feel sympathy.
Workings in charm
are a given in red
shoes, naivity.
The late Elysium
times my ride and
cheats me icely.
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