blowing up like a stick of dynamite

in the currents and eddies of hair draping and curling through river rock crossing over ripples of rushing yarra yarra water

a desalinator with succulents pink-flowered, blue splendid faery wren, those on stop-over to siberia

and, sssssssssstttttt….. into the embodiement of transmedia time we go

This entry was posted in Winter.