They cut me free from the past, that crowd of voices, and enticed me wonderfully into the warm present. Amid tall and unfurnished grassblades, I sensed a swirling resonance of the sanguine which day-to-day forgets me. A perfect interval between the movement of their lips (soft, scented) and their unfurling melodies:
- Come, lie here, so I can flatter and decide, placate and confide, twirl nothing in my fingers in the peripherals of your eyes. Free the jocundity from your belly and adopt the speech of someone ready; I have palms soft to the touch, pleasing stream-like arms, a woodland of a womb, and hair that dances in the wind.
O.Wilks
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Brilliant
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