Around the first wooden calling and tolling, you are filled with peach skins; the sweet, scarlet pop and splurge of metallic sparkles touches cinnamon that fills the lips and lungs with delicious warmth.
The broad, eye-pressing laughter of lumbering bears, boars and bulls, that is strong, sends the sounds of the beads, blossoms and bows, that swim and rush around the folds of ears, spilling into rings and strings on lobes -
diamonds that tinkle and twinkle in the night, that blow in cold sea breezes.
-the B party-
