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Apr 2021
On the muted music of the zephyr, the viridescent folks' dance and the fluffs veiled in white, sallow, and orange tinges glide in the mid-air. In this pristine swathe shield by a mysterious guard against intruders, there's no gravity to land from jovial vibrations.

© Spriha Kant
Spriha Kant
Written by
Spriha Kant  F
(F)   
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   Weeping willow
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