Winters are leaning at the doorway.. The best time of the year..
When the mundane is stripped to bones and lain bare. When there is perfect excuse to turn around and turn away.
When the cocoon calls for hibernation. And the cocoon is ignored for the joy of the biting wind.
Cold.
Angry.
Familiar.
Real.
.
When the mundane is stripped to bones and lain bare. When there is perfect excuse to turn around and turn away.
When the cocoon calls for hibernation. And the cocoon is ignored for the joy of the biting wind.
Cold.
Angry.
Familiar.
Real.
.
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