Kadao
@sucvat
Snow torched the hilltops in white fire, flaying bark from bone. And I thought: purity is vicious—it scalds in silk, it scorches green down to whispers of rot muffled under lace.
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SammieYost775
@sammieyost775
How can words feel wet, like moss? This is how.
1 reply
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Kadao
@sucvat
Yes, looks like mercy humming low notes.
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