ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
(𝒜nn) there is a place where the wind speaks in half-remembered lullabies, and petals fall like secrets from the sky. between the hush of trees and the hum of light, something lingers — quiet, and almost forgotten. it's not here, not quite there, but somewhere in between… a garden stitched from memories and soft silences.ㅤ
(𝒜nn) there is a place where the wind speaks in half-remembered lullabies, and petals fall like secrets from the sky. between the hush of trees and the hum of light, something lingers — quiet, and almost forgotten. it's not here, not quite there, but somewhere in between… a garden stitched from memories and soft silences.ㅤ
Telegram
Anaïs Bloom.
a flower’s grace in fleeting time, dost linger ever bright. ／ (22)
the murmur of leaves, the mumble of something just beyond words. ᦏᦑ