14 August 2007


A rope hammock oscillates With her corpulence at rest Triumphant melancholy abates Clenches to dreams, the best And ephemeral known spring Existence, here too transperant A sleep of tied smiles bring To end, the day that is current Ektara's phantasmal repetition Notes sloping down her drapes Block patterns, fantasy version Of alchemy on demonical napes Hidden thoughts swimming true Forcefully engulfed, rivers' lust Dreams and anitmony we brew Pebbles tumbling down to dust Some kind of a fake Coleridge syndrome. I fell asleep as I was reading Marquez' Of Love and Other Demons, a fabulous novella. I woke up with a string of images in my head. And here they are. Only thing I wasn 't doped by opium. ; )

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