danasculy: …I write of what I cannot speak, the truth. I write all I know of it, then I throw the pages to the wind, maybe the birds can read it.

danasculy: …I write of what I cannot speak, the truth. I write all I know of it, then I throw the pages to the wind, maybe the birds can read it.

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from: https://touchedbythescentofmen.tumblr.com/post/72807301598