The water is like stone, heavy on my back. I shake the world off with gritty hands filling the voids with fragmented sediment.
Hold steadfast to great plumes of grey smoke that rise from autumn fires as the forest looks on, snow nestled in a thousand bows, lidless eyes.
Be good to yourself you said, and always remember to remember and remember to forget.
Imagine innocence and the pure beauty of youth…It will sustain you.
Strawberry fields of winter snow lay at the feet of bent knees while the catacombs of spring lay beneath, rich and sweet, patiently waiting.
