'Come, my blossoming tree, this evening we'll turn out the light and I'll lay your spectacles to rest on two swelling buds that promise to bring forth leaves. You'll score the celestial vault with the tips of your branches, and shake your invisible trunk as it props up the moon. New dreams will fall back down like warm snow at our feet. You'll plant your high-heeled roots firmly in the earth. Let me climb over your bamboo heart, I want to sleep by your side.'

- Mathias Malzieu, The Boy With the Cuckoo-Clock Heart


I don't understand this book, other than it is a static exploration of young love. The images here are lovely, they just don't make sense to me. Perhaps I have to draw my own conclusions (parataxis).

Pair o' taxis.