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intertext lu mikan janice qiao dawn to reply
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or you could say, the glazed sugary warmth of a freshly made creme brulee. my fingers run over wooden benches radiating comfort in their unyielding nature. a history of uncompromise in the face of a world always collapsing on its empty words. and silence cleaves to the skin, the ghost of a gargoyle unwilling to remove its mask of terror for fear of losing what it was made to protect. Holiness was meant to be precious, but surely, it was for the mundane, for the everyday, so that Kingdom of heaven and earth would be now. |