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.
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.
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.
