For Every Tib and Tom Cat

dijous

Cat Alone - 6 -




April 28





I could taste her while she approached. The nearer she came the more sour felt my tongue. Was her name Sarah? I understood Sour, though. Sour came so near she touched me. My heart flew. Then I turned my head toward strength that did not want me. Ah the upheaval.


The monotone of the wind, the vertigo of the triggered objects, soaring until their legs were weak.

And now the slump. After falling, we all slept.



Never so well

Never so well
nyac!

Inosculated

Inosculated
anyocs de nyacs!

who the 'ell?

La meva foto
C.R. Morell his paltry efforts,

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