o fig, fist of flowers, o ostiole entered
as a wasp might enter it, pollinate it knows
not
...
[+]
You've lost force.
You've lost feeling.
It is left only
to the heart
through its
...
[+]
"And yet what purple hours one can snatch from that grey,
slowly-moving thing we call Time!" –
...
[+]
I walk around the voided saloon
peeping the puppet museum for life
in vain: there's nothing
...
[+]