The yellow beam of winter noon stealing glances through agape blinds, still at bay, the pallid moon. brushing every blemish and scar, the cursive freckles of your arm, the tiny crescent of your palm. the […]
The yellow beam of winter noon stealing glances through agape blinds, still at bay, the pallid moon. brushing every blemish and scar, the cursive freckles of your arm, the tiny crescent of your palm. the […]
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