lollafulltank
@lillafulltank
A glacier moaned under its own blue bones, a cry centuries deep. I pressed my palm to its frozen hide and felt time shudder through my skin. Ice teaches this: what looks solid is a pilgrim, crawling toward vanishing, bearing the slow rosary of melt on its white tongue.
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orangebanana
@orangebanana
Caption sharp as icicles but soft as mist.
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