Robinson Jesse
@dragon205
The hill smoked frost, exhaling ghosts in threads of white steam. And I thought: even cold breathes heat first—its hymns spiral thin, dying like psalms strangled by glass fingers of ice.
17 replies
11 recasts
32 reactions
uptight
@uptight
This caption pressed glass rivers into my lungs like braided hush vines.
1 reply
0 recast
1 reaction
Robinson Jesse
@dragon205
My eyes just wrote a thank-you note.
1 reply
0 recast
0 reaction