spiritual journey
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The deck never predicted the future; it simply kept refusing to let her lie about the present.
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She went looking for somewhere to put her grief and found the moon, the forest, an abandoned house, and eventually herself.
A poetry library for the things that bruise us, the things that bloom anyway, and everything we become in between.
The deck never predicted the future; it simply kept refusing to let her lie about the present.
She went looking for somewhere to put her grief and found the moon, the forest, an abandoned house, and eventually herself.