touching grass isn't enough. i need to fall through an under-meadow where all mowed lawns go and find grass kissing itself in a mirror, but only on the blades
last queries recorded by an alchemist's quicksilver intelligence:
-can birds really speak the language of angels
-dove gave birth to phoenix normal?
-Male + Female = giant ostrich?
-why does my rebus have feathers
introduced a dmt elf to alcohol, now it's muddling mojitos inside a klein bottle. the lime exits the glass, re-enters its own peel, and returns left-handed, tasting of pine
we paint the dharmakāya purple for victory, ornament it with jewels grown in the brains of deluded gods, fasten a chedi like a festival hat. the purple, jewels, and chedi slide off