sucked into the mundane & its mysterynsixteen-petalled flowered upholsterynwhere've i been ?nwell, i've been here for hoursnbleeding into patterns of flowers...nn( quietly the night came marching in to greet them )nnwhen those seams open upngo in , gonyellow, wide, open upngo in, gonshades of honey beesnblack and golden yellownsway like honey beesnblack & golden yellownnyellow, yellow...n