EN
Midnight, The Zero Hour
Not rated0 votes0h 10m
In the farcical exchange between the poet and the harmonic pipe, you will silently count from zero to nine. Then you will hear the chirping of insects from Borneo, the clear and pleasant sounds of the Dai Bilangdao flute, impromptu shamanic chanting and fragments of highly treasured visual relics that the poet has gleaned with her eyes during her travels.
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