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World of the Dark Elves
Trees are portals
Stems of white birches
acknowledge songs
from long ago
Rising like damp
over open horizon
Through black sap
viral voices sing
This
is
where
you
are
not
Spindles weave
symetric spider web
Footnote of fae
Can you hear us
through the high grass?
Darkness speaks
in tongues of fire
A darkbrown hare
climbs the hill
Alone with
promise
of spring
Magnolia fields
are dancing
Our tears
of the sun
run dry
