Dark shrouds eyes, moon climbs.
Dimmer every night. Shadows
congeal to give chase.
How does it work?
This one feels like a quiet little chill creeping in, so atmospheric!
More stories from Jada Ferguson and writers in Poets and other communities.
Summoned to the blues Suckling at dexterity Tasting other worlds
By Jada Ferguson5 months ago in Poets
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He speaks through his groin in the pale morning for the sake of leaving sparkling sperm on his man’s feet in the spartan room made for gods and
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By Vocal Curation Teama day ago in Resources
Comments (1)
This one feels like a quiet little chill creeping in, so atmospheric!