205. THE PROVENCAN ALBIGANS

205. THE PROVENCAN ALBIGANS

) 205 PERSECUTION AGAINST THE PROVENCAN ALBIGANS On the shores of Tulon buildings bustling signal highways, say and feel its quicksilver, cables poles whipping with a balaclava he looked at me in the wind of the autumnal clarities. I felt only cold next to the feast down the street the gendarmes waiting for the slip and the fracture clinging to answers terrified with their poisonings of infractions and parts.

Witnessing a crystal between rags next to an apple tree warm up with the verb and the consolationum, your baptism, I was in the stadiums for escaped, I was in the dressing rooms sharpening the eyes, to go out in the sun . Screaming thief clenching teeth nailing cliffs towards the grass they barter a church for you with stained glass teeth, Saint Mary the Greater, passing the handles of the tape with this abyss of this lens, waste of some passerby, self-copying in five scares with the letter for everyone provincials and peasants codes of gnostics and philosophers stones Leasing in transactions, Da Vinci Codes and anxiety at traffic lights.

off that rose thorn breath and silenced that ruby spray of the verb of an Albigensian split in any century, when we are penetrated with its heavy lead pollution. Relieved by a submerged sign Fleur de lis crusade against the holy grail accompanied by cornets that sharpen the dawn of Languedod and a statue with a scream and a wormy lung sighing a malboro butt.