with thick, denying branches,
to the first Ace,
like the night,
she is not afraid.
She is not made of man’s rib,
but constructed of her own collarbone.
brighter than the broken stars,
that had given up hope,
and grows taller than the voices,
that told her to hide.
She has arrived,
and she will teach the forest to grow.
Order “Stormy Weather” here
Order “Last Of The Greenwich Glamour Girls” here
Order “The Things We Did Last Summer” here
Order “Home Wrecker” here
Listen to”Past Preston” here
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