I have married a crowJilly Dybka
The bird died in my hands, then was OK. The bird smelled like outside. I was inside. The bird flew off. I was a tree. I prayed to the Crow Soul. Feathers. Beak. The bird died, then flew off. Into the smoke. To turquoise sky. Wing-easy flier. Beak-breaking sky. I was a tree. Crow-joker in disguise. Navigator-prankster. Raucous kooky Crow Soul. He flew away. I was a tree. Crow Soul smelled like sky. Go tell his brothers. Crow Soul died in my hands. Then he was free. Thank you morning sun and thank you feathers.
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