Forward from: Bound Grief.
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The velvet morsels entwine like clandestine blueprints that are left to be unsaid, while its hue became a vehement mutter against your pallid skin. If you agitate, even in dream, let it be not from grief—but from the rememberance of the midsummer’s sun and the way I once called your name like prayer through the trembling dusk. For a hymn to be implicit, esteemed writers and creators of profile needs, then consider commencing through @BOUNDGRIEFBOT, for our camaraderie shall arise and be untamed.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
The velvet morsels entwine like clandestine blueprints that are left to be unsaid, while its hue became a vehement mutter against your pallid skin. If you agitate, even in dream, let it be not from grief—but from the rememberance of the midsummer’s sun and the way I once called your name like prayer through the trembling dusk. For a hymn to be implicit, esteemed writers and creators of profile needs, then consider commencing through @BOUNDGRIEFBOT, for our camaraderie shall arise and be untamed.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ