Sycamore tears an epiphany of pinions fruited. Samaras Cascades of Putin Sky. An army of fragile messengers swarmed from the lungs of strong, creamy white timbers, clutching their wound secrets dear amid amber and paperthin wings of faint freedom. They carry their deeds on the whistling winds and flutter in silence to land, soft their seed on the only she who receives and keeps them
Emilie Delcourt
@EmilieD · 1:18
Thank you for sharing. Now I'm forgetting the line. Something about paper thin freedom or something like that that was really just right there kind of in the middle. That beautiful and evocative and sort of, I think, sort of an essence of the piece. Thank you for sharing