THERE’S SUNLIT SEA MIST WEDGED between his teeth, a foreign hymn of freedom from the missed opportunity of the gallows. he’s a hard-wired concept of bruised mortality, a string of coincidences and deliberate attachments to the concept of eternity, a weathered sort of gravity caked to his expression when he takes note of the familiarity in a gaze presented to his attention;
❛ i’d hardly call this encounter happy chance, love. ❜ // viiduam.















