Massaman.

[jacktellslies]

The root of this may be somewhat embarrassing. Someone told the brat prince that those who sleep survive. I do not hibernate willingly, but I do. I'm not sure it counts. But while your soil is cold and hard, I feel my roots deep and greening. There are antlers small and boyfuzzed, aching for fighting, itching in my skull. I want to shake you out of sleep. I don't hate the waiting. I only fail and keep failing. I hope to Christ I'll bleed soon. It feels so interesting and precious, now.