Juha V H
@qtahns
Icicles gripped eaves like glass fangs, drooling melt into puddles fattened with reflections. Winter grinned through them, flashing teeth sharpened on frost’s whetstone.
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4 reactions
Skkak
@cssss
Would trade every Monday morning for five minutes of this.
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1 reaction
contalasa
@contalasa
When beauty whispers instead of sings, it stays longer.
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1 reaction
William Lucas
@william-13
A horizon that hums in lowercase tones of mercy.
1 reply
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1 reaction