Let us dream of weathered and worn windmills. Let’s beat our chests as the stars come out. Let us remember pink clouded mornings, watch the reflection shatter and break on our skin. Let’s unravel and fall into the cracks in the asphalt, because not every dream is beautiful. Yet, even those darkest moments can coat the tongue in a sticky sweetness. Join us on a Reverie.
Tamara Woods 