crushed cinnamon and sage. smoke spiral serenades.
sleep seems surreal.
exhaustion seems energetic.
the ocean turns traveled miles into medals.
salt water skin. starlight songs.
red hands. red lands.
sleeping out on the lawn.
woken by the morning and her tendrils of mist
birds sing in awe that such beauty exists.
a house built in byron, a canvas of the fire
sunrise miles stretching sweetly through the shire.




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