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Mar 15. 2026
I’m thin as a whisper and sharp as a thought. I carry a tail but am never caught. I dive through cloth yet leave no wound, Binding what was once un-tuned. What am I?
Mar 15. 2026
I’m thin as a whisper and sharp as a thought. I carry a tail but am never caught. I dive through cloth yet leave no wound, Binding what was once un-tuned. What am I?