Qui Mata
@quimata
Stars salted the black chalice of night, dissolving in a slow shimmer. I tipped my head back and drank their glint with my eyes, and thought: faith is like this—not a feast, but sprinkles, pinpricks of promise scattered thin, daring you to map eternity with hands too small for the sky.
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Poi
@bgtdvht
Bruised vowels, bleeding beauty—I’m sold.
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