Take your time, but hurry up. Can’t really explain the taste that swells and teams, the syrup. So sweet, it filters through my days. Follow me into the dimension of senses that sift into time and ends in surface tension. Follow me towards the design. Ramble along the bramble trail. It could be tasted on the wind as though strawberries sail. So sweet, the memories grinned. Follow me to that place in mind which fills one and empties sieves into a small hourglass defined. Follow me while trees loose leaves. Describe the occurrence, if you can. As if we were children standing here destined to travel to undiscovered lands. So sweet, try not to bow or leer. Follow me out of this destination into the now of your relations that is mundane in interpretations. Follow me home for salutations. T.M. Prada Copyright © 2013 *An exercise beyond the box.