FatalFlaw — Guest Blogger TheFeatheredSleep

Your body is a constalation of scar tissue and places. My fingerprints are shadows in time pressed in wet clay outlasting moments perfumed breath. You sweeping my hair like a rug shaken back into place leaves no trace no discontent in the air nothing save tin stars cut from metal casting pearly light through the […]

via FatalFlaw — TheFeatheredSleep

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