émmerveiller pivone

ㅤㅤ my soul is made of broken crystals, peached mornings, and the spine of stars with the moon’s apricot promise. you wandered in my soul with your bronzed palms and left scars of summer’s kiss in ; siennamore saint-lou shallow backbone of gnawing despair — a primal touch of survival, youre housing a love that dwells in my sunken corpse, in my scorned mouth, in my sun-scorched feet, in shadows that tremble with the weight of of your warm sighs in my petals-soft ears ㅤㅤㅤㅤ