Transgressing boundaries. An aural experience.

Welcome to the Transphonic Museum of Prose

Wanting memories to cry

On the bed of discord the leaves cry
children speak from imagination
the pebbles my bed
wanting memories to cry
before this moment let us dance
let the men sleep
and stillness rejoice
This bed of souls and old ones
words in the ocean of beings
In the moonless darkness
the evening
the young ones ones hurt
Under the cover of longing insects
cry at the thought of ourselves
before the understanding
leaves the journey of Frenchmen

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