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" Something in me vibrates to a dusky, dreamy smell of dying moons and shadows. "
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chrysalism

n. the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to waves of rain pattering against the roof like an argument upstairs, whose muffled words are unintelligible but whose crackling release of built-up tension you understand perfectly.

(Source: dictionaryofobscuresorrows, via chambaron)


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