Crying Wind

Crying wind to mean something after the rain that has fallen for four searching hours rain like persistent little foxes of impossible cunningness before the end of a storm before the beginning of a newer astrological cycle April-ish in colour and taste and smell feeling soft to the touch like passion fruit in your passion at the tips of your fingers when you sit to think about the girl-woman who had gifted you fruits for your birthday - no one else had gifted you fruits before that and none ever since she must be special hence or so to let the best breast breeze to wash her walls with chocolate shakes and milk pods that grow on beanbags of the living room that sit facing the super-large XXXL television set that breathes laughter and entertainment like never before down your neck every time you pass it by mistake even by mistake that then is when it's a real pain almost heartbreak in hotels motels slow and tells shows on TV on the evenings of Wednesdays served with strong coffee and fried rice paper snacks after the snakes have all gone home to tell their friends about their new friends with Latin names and how they're all about to be let go of and on in no time before the moments that make the most mushy memories dry up being well, well done and what we'll do next is the new wellness routine for the urban folk musicians who play flutes like Greek gods and look like pagan deities in the middle of situations of make panic and camera zoom roll and slide