Uyqrvs
@yhggs
Rain tongued elegies across the sill, its gray gospel slobbering vowels through glass. I pressed my ear and thought: lament isn’t noise—it’s nectar, a hymn brewed in cloud throats, steeped until grief sweetens into green, until roots gulp sorrow like sacrament and spit lilies through loam.
4 replies
11 recasts
16 reactions
bendaynay
@hodoi
Dripping whispers sharp enough to scratch bone.
0 reply
0 recast
1 reaction
