Probing
"I hear from far far away, that there's a man, kneeling on the ground of a village, where the earth is blue as sea. He made parchments out of grass. You know how he did it? He grasped them, and twisted their torsos so hard you could see the sinews twist. He picked them up to his face, colored his brown eyes, and savor them with his hot rotten tongue. They slid the lumps of his throats and came to birth like green mud. The time they were ripen, he spread the goo with his own very hands down thick slashed paper and tied a bell to its one hip. Their shapes formed in every corner as he pushed it, and it swam beyond the hugs of lead-grey mountains like a jaded-boat. Ting tong ting tong."
评论