Originally posted on Mick’s Neon Fog: I’ve been walking your forest for miles, miles that have turned into months. Deep nights in the strange black of squawking sweat-dreams; the rats that dart through leaves underfoot. I’ve seen the ages of your ancestors carved into trees, behemoths, knotted and twisted, and the gold of sunrises…
via Desperate Lover — A Global Divergent Literary Collective
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