Firstly, let me preface this: I’d like to not come off as preachy or arrogant in this article, even though that is often the nature…
Author
Atticus Jackson
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A subtle rhyme of light is A distant thunder in darkness is A smooth cloth of wispy grasses in the sand is A figure darted…
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The embers of distance long for its volumes; They call a valley of whimsy hilltops, The uproots from which tracey wind takes. It’s as crisp…