๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฐ๐ณ๐๐ซ๐ฆ๐ช๐ฌ๐ฐ
4 months
Oh the spinning, how she turns in the forest, slow, kept willingly, touch-less to flow, a green drawled lily resting the evers, in the ponds that spout in the freshness of the giving, forever layed the tones of mind, that grow out to the warming of sun.
Twinkles of stars object