BY indefiniteloop

“Dark brown twinkles with the smell of 1920’s jazz sitting there waiting to spin a fun filled melody with blues that sunder the greens and reds. Raised hand waves as the moments go by within the crevice of a puddle that is flung in a dark neighborhood somewhere down to the south. These timelines are anchored now on a plank of wood burrowed from an ever growing tree that refuses to die out in a barren landscape which resembles the dark surface of the Moon which keeps shinning on in the light of the twinkles casted upon my sky.” - by

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