heavy is the head

her hips are quiet. under brushing touching; fixing on the curve of brunette bode. (ticking her waist; bringing soft scraps of irritable skin to rise and appear red under the touch of gaia and its blossoms) she is as quiet as the moss that stung to tumbling fixtures of degraded rock and mineral that mashed together beyond the years that worked of how she is true in time. perhaps in the time where the rock formed those sheets and halls of a slick undying surface. a gentle flicker of cranium; pulling up in a shake that relieved brunette fibers from the tangle they were getting from sharp burrs that were finding place among the curve of her neck and in a grunt did the babe express concern that sunk them all and for she a child still; a woman none the less but a child that gave an eye do the darker shadows of the night and spoke out in prayer for the unbelievable and un-seen.

it is her eyes here; bright and fixing that sink until the smothering fear of face. another creature that did not sink in her display that danced and she is here for a time that calls in silence. brunette babe; one of the night that is a discipleship of the slime that oozes and calls among her chest and in soft repetition does the woman of time murmur and call in a touch of what was to come. "von den Göttern" naivee to the colors; the reatures that resmeble the places they reside and for the babe wonders truly how the woman slicked within the curve of black and green slive or true;how the gods displayed her in a fixed way and she; brunette babe of the nikola
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_{"by the gods,translates back into english from german as of the gods"}