tiny paper teeth
I’m made of bones of the branches the boughs and the brow-beating light While my feet are the trunks and my head is the canopy high And my fingers extend to the leaves in the eves, and the bright

I’m made of bones of the branches the boughs and the brow-beating light
While my feet are the trunks and my head is the canopy high
And my fingers extend to the leaves in the eves, and the bright

Posted 2 years ago
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