| nullimmortalis Dec 22 | The moment the ghosts became gusts, I knew that wind worth its salt was as ever thus haunted. Most gales carried such spectral phenomena Like flotsam within waterless seas But only later to be crowded-out by heavy rain As the air's ark of future street-dancing fairies. I […] Read more of this post | | | | You can also reply to this email to leave a comment. | | | | |
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