Au contraire
I love the hair
C'est possible, couleur de la lumiere.
Kisses forbidden
Mais, je les aime
Don't throw it away, the fire.
The empty eyes
They watch
Looking for something more
The empty eyes
Make up disguise
Don't see you
The ears, closed to voice
The eyes, closed to soul
The lips, shut to touch
The arms, deprived of love.
Calm the conscience
Slow the pulse
Breathe not air
But poisoned passion.
About Me
- Leila Rousseau
- Constant complainer, effervescent explainer, road rager, mostly moody, joke laugher, make believer, neverender, air breather and happy if you allow me. This is the incomplete scrapbook of Leila Rousseau's modernly artistic scrapings. Nothing is clear and nothing is really here. We can't all be inspired, and we can't all be interested. Be humble to knowledge, as it will always be greater and more fierce than ego and explanation. Everything here is my own, but I wonder whose I am. So I could pass on the credit, when I might make someone giggle, a little.
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