A review by diwata
Sweetdark by Savannah Brown

5.0

lately i think mainly of my own hollow bones. maybe i’m more feral than i figured, cherry flesh ripe, my instinct the pit. i’ll let this
life spread me out like a sky. remember, even the sun wants us dead. so worried about belonging when we’re all tangled
in the celestial root: chaos wants for no one but i was released, and for a time, survived