As the foliage begins its approach, our bittersweet thoughts
turn
to coriander for its piquancy and variable sound quality.

Many are the replicants that appear on the horizon, falling
from the flatline into the foam and coral.

Gentle, perfumed winds caress and envelop the gauze as
curtains waltz to the mixolydian melodies of choice and
chance.
The eager visitors stand on the doorstep, listening to the
distant crackle of lightning.
A mahogany harmonium casts long shadows across the
marble
floor, delicious in its antiquity.

the word
is
the word