French Film Blurred
Published in American Letters & Commentary
You are the German word for racketing spirit.
I am a line in your hand related to character.
I am in uniform motion, a straight arrow.
You are thrown from walls upon our besiegers.You are the sound of the forge moving December.
I am stirred by a force unknown to science.
I am adding to the world's stock of soul matter.
You are a swelling at the ball of a thumb.I am an agent, in my teens, a differed child.
You are the porcelain that best makes false eyes.
We are imitations of the sound of animals.
I am seen in the other side of photographs. Our lungs cry when we let blink. This is all.
We are the home where investigation happens.