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shed that shell translucently lacquered by childhood that insect fluttering behind the ivory bars of your ribcage was once buried under funerary mosses of a fallen oak tree three hundred years of aged silence basking in it's demise saying "I stretched to the heavens but they scurried away every night of every day"
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Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 10:04 AM UTC
Oak Trees
shed that shell translucently lacquered by childhood that insect fluttering behind the ivory bars of your ribcage was once buried under funerary mosses of a fallen oak tree three hundred years of aged silence basking in it's demise saying "I stretched to the heavens but they scurried away every night of every day"
my-name-here
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my-name-here
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 10:04 AM UTC
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