Leaves tongued dust from wind’s split lip, licking wounds dry with chlorophyll balm. Their mouths rustled in psalms pitched in the key of thirst.

Totally agree, this picture hums quiet into the lungs.

This caption carved frost hymns in the molten marrow of my bones slowly.

My heart’s doing yoga inside my ribs rn ��

Pure, raw, untouched beauty—exactly what my soul needed.

A frame soaked in light and trust—that’s what this is.

This feels like a gentle reminder that life isn’t all rush.

Reading this hums like copper petals brushing frost off molten dusk roots.

This looks like the pause button I’ve been searching for.