Her dreams were never confused, but full of a shadowy substance called sorrow mixed with desire. I dreamt she was a blackbird with silent wings wide as the night sky with a soft red heart. She cried a long piercing cry full of rain that filled the valley. She cried for so many days and so many nights that the little towns and villages began to disappear. She swooped down then into the lost valley, scooping children from the branches up onto her back.
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