Persons who wander the Seine at dawn without ever thinking of the word 'Paris' or 'Seine' may wish to replicate an experience of profound rhapsodic bliss that I am able to convince myself I achieve by listening to Bill Callahan's song "You Moved In" forty times. This may take an afternoon, or a few beers. Repetition is access.Also: consider this short film.
Longing, longing, I would be tribbling over with bobbling thanks if you were to encounter him and lay at his ears of awareness that I wait in the darkning shadowed trees of the Bois de Boulogne with my melangio sweet paramour; speaketh the plaint, hight the microline, pull forward the bright silver lightedges of the rainclouds, Angel and I nay desir do twest dola retourna, jest 'im.
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