ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
𑁩
the ineluctable truth, as it is:
much like a perfume is love—faint yet inescapable in its nature, obstinate like a scar of the past. petrichor dallies idly after downpour, tea becomes cold but never unsweetened, chatters of passerby’s grow muffled as one opens the door to their apartment. present, but never gone. in the quietest moments, where the sound of the television is a mere white noise amid the noise of knife chopping up herbs and pot heating up the soup, love comes tiptoeing like a distant memory. a habit stitched in your heirloom for blood and a fragrant belonging to some pitstop nestled in the niche of time. trace its trail, and let the cord of love be the lighthouse to navigate the suburbs.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
𑁩
the ineluctable truth, as it is:
much like a perfume is love—faint yet inescapable in its nature, obstinate like a scar of the past. petrichor dallies idly after downpour, tea becomes cold but never unsweetened, chatters of passerby’s grow muffled as one opens the door to their apartment. present, but never gone. in the quietest moments, where the sound of the television is a mere white noise amid the noise of knife chopping up herbs and pot heating up the soup, love comes tiptoeing like a distant memory. a habit stitched in your heirloom for blood and a fragrant belonging to some pitstop nestled in the niche of time. trace its trail, and let the cord of love be the lighthouse to navigate the suburbs.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ