Benoît Pioulard - An Image Apart from Ourselves

So Etched in Memory

A Shade of Celadon

Anchor as the Muse

The Gilded Fear That Guides the Flow

Initial B.P.

The Very Edge of Its Flame

Shut-Ins on Sunday See

With No Advantage

And Relent

Whose Palms Create

Is in Its Clearest Form

That Wounded Weathered

Of Everything That Rhymes

Under the Break Arch

As Would a Weaver

When We Were Young

Hey Kop

Into A Mist

Old Me

Take Me Away

Lie To Me

Fantasy

Sabela

PAIN

There She Goes

Easy On Me

Damn

Sweeper

Blinding Lights

Why Won't You Love Me