you mention

2 comments

  1. Glenn Buttkus

    Another masterful match, Y, with your image of clustered blossoms morphing into the complexity of emotional clutter, the song sang in an unknown tongue, written with unrecognizable notes, on some strange pamprus or stone, found in a cave on the desert, a thousand pangs from the holy land of your soul. Did you know that #88 was Dale Earnhardt’s race number? Cool, enit?

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