and yes, i can imagine the trill when the whip of wind cracked past their necks, when the promised pain just missed, but i still have a gnawing sort of pity for any other creature who darts toward the first shrouded wonder moving in the dark, who throws its whole self at hunger without fear of breaking teeth

lovely little collection from savannah brown. it’s easy to see her maturity from graffiti to sweetdark. she’s just getting better with time. i particularly loved the use of commas throughout the work, a consistent and charming ebb and flow, bringing all the anxieties, sweetness, fear and love this collection holds together