long for your presence my needles smell like christmas forever pining
i sleep on my stomach.
once, she did too laying on clouds she braided the sunlight drenched in ray-ban reflection her easy breathing rustled the weeping willows down below. then, clouds turned gray she had never met rain before he stole her youth made damp her smile. now, she sleeps on her back constantly looking for her sunshine.
i’m too tired and stressed by random outside factors when all i really...– a wise woman