OliveA Poem by a_methyste There is an underground story When i see this juvenile olive in bloom. Of lines, Of angles, Of raindrops, Abstract that is left unsaid.
There is an underground story
When i see this juvenile olive in bloom. Of lines, Of angles, Of raindrops, Abstract that is left unsaid. © 2025 a_methyste |
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Added on March 21, 2025 Last Updated on March 21, 2025 |
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