You wander fresh roads... And behind you, the woods grow again and again
The Wood of Your Many Thoughts
You wander fresh roads... And behind you, the woods grow again and again
Moments held in waning frames, fading colors and street names...
Welcome to my mind. Watch the first step, it's a doozy.
"I saw the Angel in the marble, and carved until I set him free"
Born in Poland | Lives in Texas Now | Hype
Speculative fiction book reviews and more!
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December Rose 