i want to be as miniature; amongst the dandelion’s greyed flower, watching and striving to hold on as the wind-lifted florets find their way on streams unseen in air, as voices so often do.
i want to be as miniature; amongst the dandelion’s greyed flower, watching and striving to hold on as the wind-lifted florets find their way on streams unseen in air, as voices so often do.
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