minutia_r (
minutia_r
) wrote
2018-04-23 07:03 am (UTC)
no subject
We met in the fields in autumn
Where the sickle slices everything bare and clean
The two of us lay down
And I rose up.
In the springtime
When ice cracks and tumbles downriver
We’ll meet again.
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no subject
Where the sickle slices everything bare and clean
The two of us lay down
And I rose up.
In the springtime
When ice cracks and tumbles downriver
We’ll meet again.