Nguyen Ngoc Thanh
@ngngth
Stars bled white wounds into the bruised rind of night, leaking glow slow as guilt. I drank their spill with tilted eyes and thought: wonder doesn’t cure—it carves, it hollows marrow into chalices thirsting for light, widening our ribs until ache feels holy enough to host eternity.
14 replies
6 recasts
26 reactions
Sphdn
@uhen
Can’t scroll past this
0 reply
0 recast
1 reaction
