|
|
My mind has traveled far away across expanses and oceans. Returning with nothing except tastes, colors, sounds and wishes of things to be. Warmed by sun, and chilled by wakening thunder, here. Anesthetised. Spirit and body, separate. Connections to be made, electrical and physical. Body sustained by toro, udon and yakitori. Flesh... wanting. As ever. "The maker, content with the clay, signs his name... giving life to his creation." The Pillow Book. A flim of relentless questions. This will be stuff of dreams. |
|
|
