Squeeze out the sponge.  Play first the keys dotted with mineralized jade spores of mold, bellowing diamond dust.  The organism, the musical instrument, the velvet Bruegelian stomach. Digestion of Florentine  suet and fig debauchery, squeaks and howls. My mind leaks with puzzles filling it’s curious sponge and the maze, the labyrinth reveals words which awaited my vowels or is it spontaneous vows of absurdity?  The ivory keys of the accordion picked up by the hands of only a short time, to play what seemed imaginary and impossible. Two imaginary lovers dream up ficticious characters over years, only to find it comes to life. Is it fate?  Destiny or by the wicked enchantment of mischievious muses?  This story soaked within the sponge of my soul, this dream

Squeeze out the intoxicating tea…


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