I feel like I am motes of once-known-as-Feylian swirling in Barenjaeger* or a leaf blowing in the whistle of Felix Laband’s Whistling in Tongues. I want to drink Him and I know he will taste of maple syrup. My blood is hardly salty red – I’ve just made him a mixed cd of music so [...]
Go to post pageSeptember 15th, 2009 by Feylian
