In front of Saint Peter's grave.
Go back, go back once more and hide. Crawl back down.
Dig a hole so deep you can fit inside. Og skjul.
Be out in the grass, become a dark mess.
Shall I live in there? Cover it with flowers and leaves. Nobody will see.
Will everybody forget?
If mother ever forgot about me...
...I just hope she won't pour boiling water down the hole.
Dig down once more.
Flowers and water and leaves for your dorogoy home.
Water-love is out in the grass.
A medieval burial.
; u ; ♥
Can you tell I am utterly happy and, in love with life, once and for all?
That is the atmosphere lived in my beloved backyard. Butterflies come and dance with me.
And fishes come for a jog by the trees.
Everything is Perfect.
