Clusters of black-and-blue splashes fluttering in the breeze of rivers. Not blossoms, but butterflies. A single, giant feather watches the dance. Trapped on the end of a long, dead branch. Held fast by spiderwebs long abandoned. Across the water, shouts of unconcerned youth. Alabaster skin glistening in the sun. I watch them for a little while through a lonely gap in the trees. It makes me nostalgic for a youth I never had.
11:48 p.m. - 2020-06-17
Recent entries:
Thanking the Pandemonium - 2020-11-26
Simplicity of Sometimes - 2020-11-25
Bubblebeams - 2020-11-18
Red Blue Green Purple - 2020-11-11
Too Young to Descend - 2020-11-11
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