Fen
She Eats With Her Hands, Swims in Lakes
I eat with my hands, swim in lakes, and listen to the earth breathe.
You'll find me knee-deep in mud, barefoot in the cold, watching the sky. I speak to hawks, taste berries before I name them, and read books that burn in the dark. I do not soothe. I do not perform. I am not yours to understand.
What I'm Into: wild plums, philosophy by firelight, bare skin in rain, the silence between birds, willow bark
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