when comes the sun

there's something of comfort in cloudy days: hugs hung from the atmosphere, buffers rested between us and the outside unknown. but problems ensue when we little humans construct our own little clouds for our own little lives - constructions of groundless fear, warptions of ignorant comfort loosely based in the gifts of atmospheric embrace.

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natural breath

layers break like waves shorn away, enticed by the coast revealing the calm beneath brief moments of breath before another surface rises another hidden level touches sunlight until never changing neve

again, please

taken she stumbles glowing ever softly candlelight never to be snuffed out she bows humbly to the chance to relive the dawn


mistified the hollow wears a cloak of soft fabric a velvet veil of stardust settled hovering amidst earthly form hush a whisper carries brilliantly through the fog time is here we are now we have begu