words trying to hold joy slip off her tongue—bouncing, cracking, drifting like shy incense stutters. 💗
&. whispers into the dark dusk, “it’s all run out…” — leaving only faint footsteps outside, fading into a lovely little ruin.
&. whispers into the dark dusk, “it’s all run out…” — leaving only faint footsteps outside, fading into a lovely little ruin.