We sing in the branches, The birds of night, born brittle In broken words and melancholic memes, As holy as the body in a dream Woven in, set upon a tree, Old and scorned, played out like a fiddle With worn out strings, a holy …
Read MorePoetry of Love, Nature, Spirituality, and Dreams
We sing in the branches, The birds of night, born brittle In broken words and melancholic memes, As holy as the body in a dream Woven in, set upon a tree, Old and scorned, played out like a fiddle With worn out strings, a holy …
Read More