Binding

Calico and twine thin plastic wire ductile challenging malleability when she sits chewing her pencil moving on from there to then from space to time chewing on the yesterday that was after chewing on wires flattening them making two dimensions from three flattening pods of vanilla and cups of ice-cream under speeding trucks on a highway neglecting traffic lights power-cuts feeling quite powerless under rain clouds that refuse to weep even on a lonely Friday empty evening running cats never a tail in between their legs cuff-links replace buttons little pieces of sheep mutton for a glutton almost always hungry thirsty for wines of tomorrow that are now asleep inside little berries of grapes that hang on creepers that drink sunlight in gallons converting heat to sugar taste sweet and hot even for a robot repeating words and numbers and formulae solving quadratic equations singing blues tunes with acoustic guitars fearing fireflies mosquitoes eating biscuits drinking blood smoking leaves of pages from the most favourite book in the library kept hidden in the next shelf after the infinitely sane shelf of autobiography promising honesty and all truth with memories of torn clothes of yesterday with metal wires turned twisted into almost-a-triangle hanger with a semi-circular hook on top for foxes to count their blessings and moments of good luck when their stories were written with camel footprints published in caravans of the vast expanse of never-ending desert sand opening the doors in Spain where sing scrawny singers sing their poems rock music powdered nostrils of perception