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moookau

  • 'Crow'

    Carry, carry, carry-on Crows black gloss against the sky. Gleaming pinions rustling sleek dark forms hustling through the bitter winter air. Carry, carry, carry-on Crows perching upon a branch. The ...

    • Poetry
    • Other
    1 min read


As a writer, I'm more interested in what people tell themselves happened rather than what actually happened.
— Kazuo Ishiguro