Many white horses in ignorance very tamed ones while horizon went blur And I forgot my names When I go knocking on heaven’s door I don’t want my white and black pebbles to be counted I want to tell about all the times I was in dung and felt a hand lift me up IContinue reading “when I go”
and it’s breathable as such
La terre boit, en attendant de voir.
Avant de le refermer, les questions ouvertes.
No panic, no picnic.