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(49/51) mid-afternoon sunrays beam against the blanketed city snow your miles away this december. wishing on the same falling stars, saturday trains murmur. dusk-cascaded gleam.

@. you’re across the atlantic shore. seasonal depression combating. last-second windswept bliss. unfinished song-writes seem inkless on half-folded paper airplanes. for hidden chances and empty truths, lone twilight in streetlights mold.

💽🌲📬  dandelions carelessly dance in the wind to the songs of the rustling trees. what was left of the afternoon sun, buries itself under the ancient pines: terms and conditions

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