With the backward messenger of Future's mystery, we grow the purple of our time. Swimming green, i sit.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

An Ode to Longfeather


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Originally uploaded by kafkas_undies.
You are the mountaintop who fills every creek and snow cap with desire. You are a conifer who turns all others deciduous with a single glance. You are the mother of fatherhood and the child of the Inanimate. To say I love you is not enough; to say you love me might do the trick.

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