Xadacn
@xadacn
Against a dusk steeped in rust moans prairie, grass splitting wind into fractured psalms. Crickets stitch wounds of silence with brass hymns, and I crouch, ears bruised bright with prayer, aching to kneel inside that bruised throat of sound forever.
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thanhcuophaha
@thanhcuop1
This writing smells like electricity on wet pavement.
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