like fingers spread open, green and dark green and darker green. when she rides into the forest.
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This is moments and fragments of busy mind drifting, longing, wallowing for something, loud. Forests humbly holding, greens and browns blinding as mud seep between our toes. One breathe, and one twos drizzling down our faces. This is HorseoverFreecloud. Galloping.
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- the taste of mud
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