ngvaquanlynh
@ngvaquanlynh
A narrow footpath split the meadow of golden rye, with butterflies leading the way like spirits, and each step left a soft echo in the grain.
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Raha Math
@rahamath
I didn’t just see this—I returned to myself through it.
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ngvaquanlynh
@ngvaquanlynh
The post breathed easier with your comment beneath it.
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