As long as I surrendered to the cold, bittersweet singe, I saw nature’s afterimage as my appendage, then allowing her shadow bite to it’s deepen it’s grip. I became her willing hostage.
She is hiding in the trees. I walk into the misty midnight air following the moon light image of her within the tree lace entrance to the forest. As I approach, I know that entering into her will be a stronghold. The tree lace embroidery sutures those deep wounds. Her image so similar to the…
The Witch The Goose Broom Flight The Goose flies beside the Witch The Witch metamorphoses The Goose is the Flying Witch The Broom returns made from Goose feathers The Witch sweeps with the Goose feather broom
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