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
Lax Man
@laxman
When you can almost hear green, you know you’ve arrived here.
1 reply
0 recast
1 reaction
Robinson Jesse
@dragon205
Right? If love had a landscape, this would be it.
0 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
