[Cheeks radiate with love]
There is beauty in everything, especially the cold, still winter. The windows here have never told me anything I didn't want to hear. When all is encompassed in white, be it snow, sky, or the hidden essence of all colour in view, to me it breathes holy.
We crawl into our holes like them beautiful animals. The squirrels and the birds they do know our dwellings too. Skins and hides hold our bodies sustained, while the fire, the fire does keep us.
Dogs wail. The dogs they do cry for us; laughing when we arrive from the labour of wood and stone. We, in our cabins to bathe. Tea for the coldness of skin.
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