𝖊𝖗𝖎

Sorry, Lacuna, stupid spelling on my phones part, always trying to correct me, uuuh!!!!.

Excuse me, lecuna?

When will you update Lucana?

Hi I was just wondering where forcefully mated has gone if it posted anywhere else could you tell me where please xx

elooooo loveeee ~♡

a small token of kindness [ 28th january 2023 ] 
          
          heart that loves waters of wrinkles, a grave that loves a man of death and bones;  years of cold and hours of a backyard mirrors. floods of decades, hormones of violence; peace of unfamiliarity, an autumn of heart ache. 
          
          a jam of blue as a fight of love, a poet centuries old lurking in the present; lemons and neighbours, peaches and lungs. sins sacred before mercy, broken palms and roads of birth; sunset embroidered with veins, years fossilised with ricochet pain. 
          
          frosted letters, casual accents; love of bruised knuckles, a sip of sacred venoms. fingers of declaration, windshield dust; a lump of liability, a suffocated drink of laughter. an island where a soul sinks, oceans where the bodies bath; a thread of silk that cuts like glass. 
          
          evaporated pressure, fiery torrents; soul frozen and waltz of wakefulness. meadow of dawn, a canopy of a pleaide; frothing yearns and rippling reasons. death so close, yet addressed as cold; not every flower can be sweet, not every good heart can have enough honey. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness ( 21st january 2023 ) 
          
          bruised october, champagne bread; weeping permissions and tightened braids. a mother of brass, windows of pages; ebbs of midnight, divided miseries. 
          
          copper sprain, malachite oxygen; birds of meetings, broken silences. venn of the woods, the wind and the windpipe; foreign vowels, submerged wrinkles. wet crayons, scents of blue; crisp metaphors and pigeon hues. 
          
          palms of desserts, midnight sober; fire that slips, a womb of sonnets. lemonade poems, an annihilating waist; casual grave, a whisper of conclusions. a poet of confessions, a sky of sin; sacred rain, storm antique. 
          
          blurry opals and cigarette soliloquies; swaying septum and a bouquet of tattood ribs. spine of butter, vinegar patio; breastbone shelter, cronus love. white doorstep, a welcome ghost; trees forget leaves, winter shrinks bones. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (05th january 2023) 
          
          rain of refinement, earth of bloodshed; tropospheric rocks and primitive nightshade.  a seizure of clairvoyance, a mask of a stone; a memory loosened, a breath of disease. harm catapulted, catastrophic love; a wound transparent, blood a pinch of sea salt. 
          
          a pomegranate churlish, a caterpillar soft and green; firelight shells,  evening that murmurs fantasies. mourn the bell, the bell of heroism; creative feathers, heart of fresh fabric. tales of clouds, tales of uterus; a fallible dare, a poetic sickness. 
          
          sun sealed moon, wrapped, unwrapped; slip like a streamlet of smoke, a sharpness that floats. pulse that radiates, sleet that breathes; wings of bones, emotions an augury. autumn of balance, florid tinders; quietus fingertips, life an organ buzzing. 
          
          warped pollen, petals a haze; clouded blooms and lips of scents. ballrooms of solitude, chandeliers of pianos; what a song like that of feet tapping against measured slivers. what is fire hurts not itself but others, as the sun that burns its earth, as the moon tender upon eyes but hurts its heart the most. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token token kindness (01st january 2023)  
          
          steadfast sunsets, crooked mornings; lake a crowd of gleaming mournings. lyrics that burn, bones hopeless; tongue of wind, it rarely stays. a future of magma, temple and cityscape; humans among humans, a home bereft. 
          
          a birth that bleeds, a firmament of fleeting wisps; feet smelling of earth, lips a facade, what we appreciate. filigree like rain, a blush of darker reign; summer distorted, desert a burning lace. panaroma of a kaleidoscope, a bard like grackle; pits of doubt and a park of frission. 
          
          jardin de tuileries, seeds of breezes; memory endearments and waves of freedom. satin scents, devoted petals; barricaded branches and canvas of dripping enchantments. convivial music, lily trenchants; reflective denouements, fulgent waterfalls of wisterias. 
          
          violent fears, chalices of secrets; numbing encouragements,  frosted vanilla. oscillating mountains, cloved cessations; tainted vicolos, bricks of dried redolences. parasols of petrichor, labyrinth of moonflowers; tower of desire, rose precipices. keep a smile, with flowers divine; they grow not on well made roads but through the rough womb of mother earth. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (5th november 2022) 
          
          mouth of honesty, bloody honey; ravenous sobriquets, transparent metaphors. panting edicts, divine passages; unambiguous gravity, chaotic muscles. summer hunger, fermenting sun; mullein breaths, fervent dust. metamorphic roads, joyous courage; naked rage and newborn remembrance. 
          
          exuberant mountains, icy bees; conformed pollen, eclipsed wins. clavicle roots, burning prayers; mediocre comfort, hopeful sorrows. web of confidants, shadows of the known; gentle croaks, hesitant murders. mind a wild animal, a forest caged; auroras and sacrifices, reminiscent repercussions. 
          
          bodies of petunias, breathing skins; blood of stories, water of prison. white cotton whispers, kind demons; alchemy of weaknesses, battling questions. sacred dignity, waves of hormones; rituals of october, bargaining autumn. drop by drop, zest of oranges. 
          
          esprit of mother's milk, primal daughters; lust of earth, a shadow pure. work into exhaustion, round the clock and round the ; there is half of hope alive, half of flesh left to strain. cold is the night, still and mellow; cold is the sun that has wrung itself yellow. perhaps the moon curses its cries, hides in lone pain and white sky, for then it is rarely rejected; unlike storms. 
           #adropofhumanity