I made my way through the labyrinthine forest. A particular forest, where paths led to a multitude of ends that were not dead, but rewinding; where the mind never ceases to circumfuse. The abstract sector was composed of pencil lines diffused in giants breath. How beautiful the trees, even bereft of finery, an unbroken composition of black slashes risin…
The Melting 46
An Interlude
Mar 30, 2022
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