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November

It was November ~ the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines. – L.M. Montgomery It was November ~ the month of promiscuous trees, turbulent moons dressed up in haze, opal

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Posted in Invisible stories, Iron Tales, Quote

“Language is not like the sun,
heating and scorching
but like the moon
keeping secrets
and the arcane magic of the night
throwing stars
in the lilacs’ claws
till dawn.” -Iulia Halatz

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