Benoît Pioulard - Shut-Ins on Sunday See

An Image Apart from Ourselves

Of Everything That Rhymes

And Relent

Under the Break Arch

A Shade of Celadon

Anchor as the Muse

With No Advantage

Whose Palms Create

The Gilded Fear That Guides the Flow

That Wounded Weathered

The Very Edge of Its Flame

Is in Its Clearest Form

Initial B.P.

So Etched in Memory

As Would a Weaver

Save Your Tears

Why Won't You Love Me

No More Tears

Take Me Home

We can dance

Ride It

Locked out of Heaven

Love Like That

Sabela

Nothing

Versace On The Floor

Part II (On The Run)

Savaş (The War)

Chasing The Sky

Every Time I Close My Eyes