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Drawing from the deepest layers of my garden Digging up roots buried under pain Hearing them whisper my truths to the wind Weaving my spider‑light heart Transparent with raw light Its brightness almost blinding Coming back to what is essential Sending out plural poetries Breathing the silence between words Swallowing the echo of a secret rain Tasting childlike creativity Curling up in the sleep of forgetting Dreaming aromatic nebulae Sharing our awakenings Finding one small natural beauty mark Hiding in order to reveal myself better Smiling at the fleeting stranger Offering my night‑shards to the trembling dawn Wandering barefoot across the blank page A curious optimism for a future still to be built
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May 6
May 6, 2026 at 1:16 PM UTC
Barefoot on the blank page
Drawing from the deepest layers of my garden Digging up roots buried under pain Hearing them whisper my truths to the wind Weaving my spider‑light heart Transparent with raw light Its brightness almost blinding Coming back to what is essential Sending out plural poetries Breathing the silence between words Swallowing the echo of a secret rain Tasting childlike creativity Curling up in the sleep of forgetting Dreaming aromatic nebulae Sharing our awakenings Finding one small natural beauty mark Hiding in order to reveal myself better Smiling at the fleeting stranger Offering my night‑shards to the trembling dawn Wandering barefoot across the blank page A curious optimism for a future still to be built
Callixiope
Written by
41/F/Laurel
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 1:16 PM UTC
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