Abreast a river’s upper-reaches –
a child not yet reflected clear,
her ink-black hair entangled; free.
Unrestrained as the wand’ring, bill’wing waves,
she makes her way about the city slopes…
In Joyce-esque prose-descent
into a thoughtdream stream of words –
I fall in love with Breasts & Eggs.
Image credit – mieko.jp
william altoft 