Emblem Stories

You have your lash and I have my own, marks and stings blossom across your flesh in order to make a home. A little more pain would make the whole heart follow next, veins would surge to the ghost note, pauses amplifying the impact in between. Mine always goes inward, some dark quiet inverse that would be a mirror to yours if you could still peel beneath. Our darkness would then know exactly where to meet. Where desire str...