Under a fig tree in a desolate grove I silently drank a scent. | Thoughts Hub

Under a fig tree in a desolate grove I silently drank a scent. I didn't have words. I didn't even have a voice to sing. Silence is the only fruit of deserted orchards. I said to myself by suggestion: drink, drink. Drink so that the star suffocates. Drink until the halter of wisdom slips away. And drink so that your eye drops from its socket. Fig leaves above my head open paws. He can hang himself on the stick. Asterisk swelled. It is on the wall overlooked animal seal. Where am I? I ask you honestly: where am I? Poor Buddha lost himself under a fig tree, silently sweeping his words.