the mist slowly thickens
deep red hair. a protruding belly. which curls tighter around one's fingers, smoke or hair? There is something almost erotic about - no don't go and say that.
a good looking bunch. the maidens of the roundtables. experimenting, studying two monsters. writing and thinking in French.
A cinematic reading of this or that.
Sleeping outside under oaks in noisy sleeping bags, rustling about like leaves.
Brewing coffee too bitter and strong. Bright light pours in, steaming timid shadows in the breeze behind modern venetian blinds.
fresh air old leaves and power-tools carve cigar boxes. God's Bits of Wood.
Beeswax, baked apples by the stream under a full moon.
And the cider brewing went on 'til morning
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