05.04.12 @ 13:20♥196
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05.04.12 @ 12:32♥694
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05.04.12 @ 11:44♥278
All I can think about
is standing knee-deep
in blackberry brambles,
fingers stained bright with
the blood of the Mother;
and we pace in the river
and slip on wet stones
until the sun sinks low
behind night blackened hills
and the sky gives birth
to stars.
05.04.12 @ 10:52♥4376
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05.04.12 @ 10:51♥1285
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05.04.12 @ 10:50♥3861