Lette Poems - Poems about Lette

...i become a stone, still a leader, but translation transforms me, as i learn “le crayon est rouge.” “Je m’appelle Chantal.” enchanted by my “nom français.” a shy child, changed b......Read the rest...

...Croissant, crisp buttered farm fresh marmalade is laid asking for a taste rape orange juice, just taken from crop gash cashews, fair and smiling roasted fine coffee, musky and tongue so......Read the rest...