nestromeda
covered bridge a hundred years old gone forever in the blink of an eye
the flood
never underestimate the power of water
like a bridge washed away by troubled water
bare feet like to walk on texture not spiky or hard or sharp or hot or splintery
we like spongy and soft grass and sand and even smooth mucky mud
we like cool we like wet we like soft we like bounce
we like rebound we like looseness we like free
we like fleecy comfort
we even sometimes like a crumbly hard road when we're itchy
we