quarta-feira, 6 de agosto de 2025

Never camp there

 Tricky in the sticky trees
mouth and face drawn like an elf
Shade and foliage block dawn itself
Part of me wants to run quickly

supernatural overfed in this tiny dank valley
it's unpredictable conundrum uncanny
It's peculiar vibrations looming there
cunning invisible tongue for fear

A nose for the twilight sour
teeth for first darkness rich
claws in the witching hour
Dead dismembered in a ditch

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