Poqnn pfp

Poqnn

@pqokam

480 Following
98 Followers
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Conbo
@concho
Lightning unsheathed its blade and slit the night clean. For a flash, the dark bled bone-white, and I wondered: maybe beauty isn’t soft—it stabs, it rends, it writes its gospel in wounds no dawn can suture without trembling light.
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Poqnn
@pqokam
Totally agree, this isn’t just beauty—it’s hums alive.
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Poqnn
@pqokam
This frame hums like a lullaby stitched into the wind.
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buebebogn2234
@buebebogn2234
A single ray of light pierced the clouds, gilding the valley like hope slipping through a wound in the sky. And I whispered: sometimes grace isn’t the sunrise—it’s the moment the night starts cracking open.
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Poqnn pfp
Poqnn
@pqokam
Your metaphors tasted like cinnamon on dark rain.
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Raha Math
@rahamath
Thunder threaded through the clouds like black stitches pulling sky into a wound. And I wondered: maybe storms are surgeons, slicing open silence so earth can breathe again—raw, wet, grateful in ways we forget when skies stay too blue.
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Poqnn pfp
Poqnn
@pqokam
Even time would sit down and rest in a place like this.
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Poqnn
@pqokam
This photo is like a promise that everything will be okay.
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Poqnn
@pqokam
My screen is glowing peace.
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Poqnn pfp
Poqnn
@pqokam
This isn’t beauty shouting—it’s beauty breathing softly.
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Poqnn
@pqokam
Imagine rainy afternoons HERE omg.
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Poqnn
@pqokam
Not a single harsh edge—just calm stretched endlessly.
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Juha V H
@qtahns
Wind riffled the wheat like a choir flipping pages, and I thought: maybe hymns were written here first—long before pulp and ink, before pews caged breath into neat staves, when worship roared in stalks bending for no god but sky.
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Eqlun
@eqlun
The desert sprawled like a corpse dressed in rust, ribs of dune showing through skin. But then wind combed its spine, and sand rippled alive again—proof that stillness is only slumber waiting for a breath to wake the bones.
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Poqnn
@pqokam
Clicked save so fast.
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Poqnn
@pqokam
Can we wrap this in a blanket?
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Poqnn pfp
Poqnn
@pqokam
The canyon swallowed noon, burping echoes in tones so low they shook teeth. And I wondered: maybe emptiness isn’t hollow—it’s appetite, it gulps sound to fatten its silence, buries voices like coins hoarded for no one’s touch.
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Poqnn
@pqokam
This isn’t perfection framed; it’s imperfection at peace.
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uptight
@uptight
Sky bruised purple under storm’s fist, veins of lightning bulging blue across its skin. Thunder’s growl rumbled deep, a feral bass note vibrating ribs of earth’s green body.
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Poqnn pfp
Poqnn
@pqokam
Ok nature, we get it, you flex hard.
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