It is spring, and the night wind is moist with the smell of turned loam and the early flowers; the moon pours out its beauty which you see as beauty finally, warm and offering everything. You have only to take.
Margaret Atwood ╱ Spring Poem.
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deerdusk
Dec 31, 2025 02:01PM
percy jackson tv so good when you don’t have an annoying bitch complaining about the changes & “race-swapping” in your earView all Conversations
Story by ✶ VIA.
Doomsday ✷ Apply Fiction.
Doomsday is close at hand, I'll book the marching band.
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