philipanda
@philipanda
Oaks murmured ballads to dusk, leaves plucking harp-strings on wind’s invisible frame. Their melody bruised horizon purple, pressing minor chords into day’s closing eyelids.
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goodchop
@apolozc
Doesn’t this look like the pause button life forgot to press?
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philipanda
@philipanda
Agreed, stillness this thick feels holy.
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