i sit here, an aging ghost, located somewhere on the outskirts of a gray marsh // my voice of dried and brittle grasses wisps through stale, salty breezes // a blushed sensation // conjured desires // caravans of whisked clouds passing overhead // drink deeply from HER words // the Faun's nimble freedom at a distance // always at a distance
francy:
💖💖💖
babydracula:
Omg! 🖤