I've an infinite love for the emerald disco in your auroral eyes. They freckle the coffee that steals unanchored rapture from stirrings beyond senses' lines. My soul grows here where breath is always renewed. Its marrow thumbs the knowledge wrapped argent in you.

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You have my ardour fanned over the reckless frost, my flames beaming away illusions to save more room for our evermore moons. Solemnity's maw feels just around the corner when you're gone, but I've decided to let towering gardens reign winter in musing delights.

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We fell with eventide, becoming torpid after hours of laughter over dark chocolate fondue. I was besotted with how rich his smile was. It carried no past hurt yet included all... 1/2

9 42

The flutters before everything falls to the pit of your stomach isn't always bad. I learned that when I giggled over dumplings & you'd looked at...#LilLuvStory 1/3

5 42

Where love & desire once reigned, others would now call misery. I feel nothing apart from active nerve endings. Such are side effects of gifting my heart to the girl in the dog rose house. "Be my Valentine," she reads before opening the box. "𝘼𝙃𝙃𝙃𝙃𝙃𝙃!"

3 36

"I told her they were hills I'd like to die on," he said, eyes shadowed beneath shaggy bangs.
"Bummer. Should've said she's callipygian. Like an idol. That's a rock-solid compliment. 1/2

4 35

The winter air had weathered lines on your palms and powdered the mounts like snowy hills—but I still saw home in them beneath amber lights as a wind unmistakably twisted thyme in my hair.

10 75

I looked up at space & wondered where the stars went. The sky had become a blood orange river & despite how pure the air felt, I tasted a light coat of copper in my throat. Our neighbour, Gary, was crooning to a limp girl.

6 36

Sunlight tears into the unwonted town once owned by night as Wolf Eyes & co. run the demon knave widdershins into a corner. Its greed bleeds w/ acrobatic sleekness into the ground & you rise as though winged by angels. Sleep paralysis be damned. 7

3 54

The sunrise burst in a dragonfly dream, illuminating a lemonade sky where it floated until setting in a blackberry ocean in the west. He stood there, respect on his shoulders and ulotrichous locks kissing his lashes, having his own thoughts about it.

17 74

Nothing dilutes a panther's grace. As leaves mess & turn with gusts, as zinnias blossom in honour, as milestones come & go—their energy will forever stay. That is practical in its own right.

18 64

A flutist on the howling wind sought you upon a tenebrous descension. It was an enchanted night and you left your blanket fort—the safe zone—for a warm mausoleum. Foolish souls hear. Listen. 365

10 55

Like any other demon, it is quasi-charismatic—advancing the gentlest of kind souls with grace's veil to make them commit the worst sins until their skulls turn grey from dust. Be a storm. Destroy its title. 355

6 44

Few swill from the fruit on disrespectful escapade, most fearing the verve in which they'd be punished. The Grim Mother loathes the sound—though gluttons offer rich blood for her children's doses of immortality.

14 60

"I eschewed doldrums by people watching. Many ignore their streetwise instincts and you can speak the same of their hygiene. I used to be delighted with never ending snacks but their flesh was dreadful," he grimaced.

6 47

Beekeepers
comb catalysts
for sweetest honey
daydreams,
finding late
summer sunsets
on ends.

6 36

A heavyweight purpose lifted from his lips, feathers quivering to sun-lined clouds. He can't hear their belittling anymore. They can't account for his choice without angering the devils as the earth cracks.

9 61

We eyed askance the cobblestone path to a cavern beyond sunset trees, agreeing to never set foot on its impulsively combustible dirt. They say gnomes are carried to its depths where their spirits may exact revenge.

6 25

"The Mimics walked with quiet façade, studying the reactions of all in sight. Your Gran once offered one a stroopwafel—her gran's recipe—but ended any interaction there. Claimed she saw the devil vining in his eyes."

7 40

The skies detailed more than sparks in your eyes, the unending candles they are. You mark the world with light on every kind gaze—but such aren't given free and the same fires can punish evil doings and their charade.

6 58