Poleos
@podk
Leaves cracked from their hinges in amber spasms, spiraling like coins pitched to gravity’s greed. I caught one, brittle as breath, and thought: collapse isn’t cowardice—it’s choreography, the body’s last curtsey to wind, a crimson pirouette bowing before the blind applause of soil.
9 replies
4 recasts
14 reactions
Vlxx
@vlxxne
Who hides thunderstorms inside grammar like this?
0 reply
0 recast
1 reaction
