gorgeous_at_4am
misstree
the
wind's
fingers
were
grave
-cold
whispers
across
my
skin
.
the
stars
winked,
foxlike,
behind
sentinel
silhouettes
with
dancing
pelts
of
leaves
.
only
when
all
is
asleep
can
the
night
shine
so
.
060725
what's it to you?
who
go
blather
from