Baba Yaga Baba Yaga chews bones in her chicken-footed hut deep in the forest where the thorn bushes bear fruit like blood blisters and grows older and more bent by the year the bones rattle in her cupboard and her mind is so sharp she remembers who the tiniest phalange came from and how good or bad this narrow tasted outside, the wolves and the ghouls are whining for offal and Baba Yaga tugs at the knots in her hair with a comb made of wire and ravens' beaks and listens to the heartbeat in the walls. Danielle Willis -- ╭──────────────────╮╭────────────╮╭─╮ │ 世界正崩毁离析，时间正倾倒颓坏。 ├┴╮http://distract.org/╭┴┤ │ ╰─┬────────────────╯ ├──────────┤ ╰┬╯ ╰──────────────────╯ ╰──╯ --

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