a little remains dangling, splash of wild in flowers and fish scale roofs, a moonchild - to see clearly one must cross a frontier cross the street, visit the chocolatier to a door that knows everything from your eyes - listen to songs of redwi

when the trumpet plays a morning begins where I bite through experiences, fat, stuffed queen olives, one after another I read poetry of moonlight and dewdrops - mystical morning fog makes a dragon of the old cart horse and a castle of your