Rock'a'bye baby,
In the treetop,
When the wind blows,
The cradle will rock,
When the bow breaks,
The cradle
will
Fall,
Down,
Down,
Down,
will come baby,
Cradle and
All
***
YOU ARE READING
The Ones Who Live Inbetween
FantasyOur hammers are glass and our glasses are stone. We live on an ocean of smiles and bone. Breathe. Breathe. The ticking of a clock. In. Out. Tick and tock. Buzzing in chests and pumping through seas. Your father is coming. Don't let him see. The ant...
