The glass bottle.

-The journal logs of vivid dreams-

I’ve no longer bitten down the tongue that wishes to speak. I’ve come too close to reach my inner me. I am searching for you. Walking though the aisle standing on a shelf the green bottle wrapped with twine, shinning and glistering from sun rays. I was drawn to it completely. I placed my fingers against the wrappings and a beautiful sound of winds came out. I began to make music tracing my fingers against it. A harmony written inside. A love I’ve always been searching for… is this you calling me back? It’s time to speak love, passion and beauty. Yes, this is the time.

⌊ᶫᵉᵗ ᶫᵒᵛᵉ ᵇᵘʳᶰ ∞ ᵗʰᵒᵘˢᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵘᶰˢ⌋


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