I didn’t know cacti could bear fruit. That one could harvest from thorns, something so delectably rich, red, a strange fruit. Black mother made for desert sun that even when planted in the evergreen, still scavenging, surviving birthing prickly things. Hair like...

Space shall be filled,Silence shall find its soundand what will it say?For there is always something to be said: I Perhaps it is words not invented yetlike magenta,we invented that word,they say it is a colour that does not exist.A construct of our brain,A combination...