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Laurel DeCou

Un moment s'il vous pla�t. Ou plus. Breathe slowly and release the burned part into the
atmosphere. Like tar oozing from the cracks under a mid-day sun. We do not step on the
cracks yet her back is still broken. Before learning to drive the wheel spun constantly�
and the brake shifted places underfoot. Quand les fleurs ont ouvert, nous avons arret�.
Et puis, elles sont mortes. Cette maison regarde le rue avec peur.� The windows hide beneath their roofs. The voices ring out and fill the spaces like cobwebs we walked through in the half-light of a star cutting through the fog laden branches. You lost us and I lay my head on a rock until morning.

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