We inhale scent of roadside pines infused in each raindrop that silver-spatters needles and, snail-like, trickles down their sodden spines. A tidal sussuration, the forest weeps with kisame; we taste rain on our lips: teardrops kissing raindrops, kissing you kissing me. Kim M. Russell, 7th June 2018 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads […]
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