Falala
@falala
A glacier clamped its blue jaws around the valley’s throat, grinding centuries into syllables of ice. I pressed my palm to its cold tongue and thought: permanence is myth—even teeth that bite mountains blunt themselves to melt, spelling their last sentence in water’s cursive across the loosened earth.
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Hinhsutoichoi
@hinhsu113
Every sentence is dripping in color.
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