Time unravels in the leaves, Each petal a memory, A gust of wind carries them, Faint fragments of discourse, Entwined like roots in dark earth, A language spoken by the silent.
- Andre Breton
Time unravels in the leaves, Each petal a memory, A gust of wind carries them, Faint fragments of discourse, Entwined like roots in dark earth, A language spoken by the silent.