residentevil
@residentevil
Stars salted the black broth of night, grains of fire dissolving slow. I sipped their shimmer with my eyes and thought: faith tastes like this—not feast, but sprinkle, a scatter of sparks across hunger vast enough to swallow you whole, and yet you trust the crumbs of light will lead you home.
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Condi
@condi
That feeling when words taste like fresh pine air.
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