Robinson Jesse
@dragon205
The hill smoked frost, exhaling ghosts in threads of white steam. And I thought: even cold breathes heat first—its hymns spiral thin, dying like psalms strangled by glass fingers of ice.
17 replies
11 recasts
32 reactions
Eqlun
@eqlun
This caption braided iron dusk around my lungs in glass shadows.
0 reply
0 recast
1 reaction
