The wake is like a funeral pyre a howling wolf fighting eating empty stomach famishly starved trying to burn light out from the dark "It is a bliss in the deep" it thinks, this creature, while being and wanting to stay a longer while From the deep it thinks "If I too should surface I would see you up there in a tree, writing a poem no one might ever see" But just if lucky like a destinated leaf on a bare scraped winter's tree the note would fall discretely come swirling down and would be caught instantly agape This would feed the whole underworldly beast
into exist
Related Blogposts
The following memories were shared during the internal evaluation-meeting (18th of April) among Sisters staff. Memory_Woman Memory_Shapeshifter Memory_Sister Memory_Link Memory_Untamed // Flow
So many layers of reality co-exist in this world We have met, even if we haven’t been able to touch each other bodies. We have been whispering and screaming at each other ears, even without feeling the warmth of our breath. We have had taken a look into a secret…