haikus sans
the same glimpses, left unspoken. for the ones who write their own.
haikus sans
the same glimpses, left unspoken. for the ones who write their own.
current position: between timelines.
the sky said hold on,
but the ground forgot how.
your voice still floats at cruising altitude.
every time felt like the first
but it was already the last
pressurized silence,
season: undefined
some doors open with sound.
others open with silence.
this place waits for the quiet ones.
from somewhere slightly sideways
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