Miracle.
On high the stars like sleeping butterflies hung from the great grey drowsy flowers of ocloud {@suqkle}. 🥡
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我不知道发生了什么事
ㅤ“butterflies are not insects”“they are self—propelled flowers.”• 🌟🐈⬛️ a few blossoms float into the roomthey drop like frayed yellow ribbons on thegray carpet. telegram.dog/happylittlesealpup ֙ ִ🫐 ៹ ‧ ₊ㅤ
Subscribers: 2
𓇼₊⠁poems, elms memory cypresses───star in the sky all consuming in mid july with love
ㅤ♡.. fague—state page, see grey dawns usually, at night write in dark looks better in dim lights 🫐🌠 (..라벤더, scent ) clip the writings with dried flowers on the wall and leaves sunburn behind. 🐈⬛
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self-love 'nd self-obsession
I think somewhere, in a parallel world, we made love in a garden of wilted flowers. Our trembling hands reaching out, trying to grasp the last watery rays of a dying sun. Where our hearts collided and shattered into a million tiny stars.
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(t. 1975: fall.)╱ “autumn found a miracle.”
𐚈 “infinite abundance of flowers in love poetry!” [..] amidst the autumn leaves rustle. knowledge of poetry did not spread until, 1890: came the famous potion style of love poetry. | (@., since 30th.)
Subscribers: 1
(t. 1975: fall.)╱ “autumn found a miracle.”
𐚈 “infinite abundance of flowers in love poetry!” [..] amidst the autumn leaves rustle. knowledge of poetry did not spread until, 1890: came the famous potion style of love poetry. | (@tkepik, since 30th.)
Subscribers: 1