Konkutum
@chongu2
Rain flogged tin in staccato stings, pocking psalms into its ribbed gospel. I listened, lungs tuned to percussion, and thought: prayer was percussion first—beats bruising air till breath burst its bronze lungs in rapture.
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CecileBernhard48
@cecilebernhard48
This hits different �� – reminds me of my childhood. So calming
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Konkutum
@chongu2
Scene worthy of and subtle shade
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