of apples, round and round we swam;

through leafy talk of eiderdowns and

cleverly we then began to gesture wildly

with our hands.

"soft cusionings of bark begin to dig

within the pips and teeth", the left hand

said, so strained and sweet a visual

soliloquy.

in answer to this wordless dance, the right

began to motion that; "in order to

appreciate this sleepless state we must

attack

the very essence of the night in which we

find ourselves again, just as the stars

begin to fade into the core of what we

fight."

this short, well balanced argument

repeated endlessly within the orchards

walls, by tired trees, escaping from their

origin.