Tuur VerheydeFeb 261 min readYou Tell MeIn the heavens we unhear The spittle of speechless Wights like the teeming Of teetering sad sacks. When the darling dreamer Tells you to take heed, Rustle your feathers To make music in The hush.
In the heavens we unhear The spittle of speechless Wights like the teeming Of teetering sad sacks. When the darling dreamer Tells you to take heed, Rustle your feathers To make music in The hush.