In our ancestral world, our heads are heavy from the burden of our youth. Our eyes fall to meet the musky earth to remind us of our place. We strain to have a voice but in the land of echoes...We can only hear ourselves.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
The Old World
In our ancestral world, our heads are heavy from the burden of our youth. Our eyes fall to meet the musky earth to remind us of our place. We strain to have a voice but in the land of echoes...We can only hear ourselves.
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