On the bathroom-way, music dragged me outside. Into the rainy dark of a Burnaby night. A mystical haunting sound hovering the trees. Wind chimes I never knew over my parent's porch, and then I in the bathroom to take a shit.
Vanilla, the only orchid we eat (as far as I know), is linguistically related to the word vagina (Latin), meaning sheath (or scabbard).
And the wind chimes again, like a Tuvan night dream (without any horses) comes in through the window.
Galloping.
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3 comments:
and then the bee goes in.
exactly
I always motivated by you, your views and way of thinking, again, appreciate for this nice post.
- Norman
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