Empty passion fruit shells.
Sour tongue. sour lips.
One am.
Wet towel on chair.
A distant hum of a brewing resistance.
I wonder about the challenges of decision-making in a democratic forum ,one which is slowly taking form, emerging gingerly but with determination. Afraid that it might remain a prisoner of our imaginations, we try an breath it to life by bouncing ideas in cyberspace...
book of Neruda's poetry on the table.
I havent read a single word. But it lies there for
good luck and affirmation of a world full of
magic and pretty sentences.
i like the idea of bouncing ideas in cyberspace. It is remarkable how much emphasis we place on communication of what we are thinking or feeling. It is as if we need to express our thoughts as much as we need to drink water or breathe oxygen to live.
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