Sinister encounters lashed the sash under the door to the adobe abode, flowers and solicitors notwithstanding.
Have you heard of Ruby, queen of Austria? Or was it Australia? Her fez gave way as though she were the pasha of Amsterdam. Jacques Brel has something else to say about that; however, allow me a question, my cousin, for the umpteenth time: how fractious are the fractions in the fictions of Borges on a false bronco?
Buckle up the liniment glare, forbears give four bears something to think about where Ruby is concerned, baby. Pashas and queens aside, the gambit-addled solicitations reverberate across the third universe from the sun’s left big toe. Big crowbars block the inflation of the other universes–whether accelerating in expansion or tackling the darkness within or not.
Knots are all that remain of the flower of youth, but legions of caution abound where life rebounds in the most approximate way.
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Now tell me what the chances are we both use the word ‘notwithstanding’ in today’s post! I told you I was starting to figure this out!
Just another day at the D.M.V.
Tents and intents were sitting on a fence…
Alas Georgette
That’s what he said.
😀
Amazing thoughts, Rick. Glad to connect with you. 🌺
Thank you for the visit. Appreciate the comment.
Feel most welcome 🙏
Your words weave a mesmerizing labyrinth—Ruby’s realm and Borges’ bronco intrigue me deeply. What inspired such a kaleidoscopic tale?
You never know where such things come from. You just put yourself in front of the blank page and see what emerges! 🙂