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Now, while I shiver, I listen to the pant, the cavern has given me the response: the fallen tree remembers old magic mushrooms.
The bass in the right ear, the voice in the left, the mental calculation of the verb in the visual image created in my cortex parieto-temporo-occipital.
” I am not going to ask anything, but I am not going to answer anything “
The nights here happen like in any other place, chairs fixed in the gardens, mountains of piled up persons, shoes flying to the evenness of the rain…
Nasal knee that remembers Cantabrians nasal blow on the head.
This also is Spain. Oasis in the middle of nothing.and fractures the times.
