trundleposhhe
@trundleposhhe
Beneath the lacquered hush of midnight hisses a forest wet with secrets. Branches clutch handfuls of moonlight like thieves. I walk slowly, because some darkness isn’t absence—it’s presence wound so tight it hums like knives beneath velvet skin.
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toidaybanoi
@qiday
That fog line? It stitched my ribs shut.
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