ph by dev
although he was close, he felt as if he was a thousand li away, and his voice resembled nameless echoes in the distance that couldn't reach my flesh.
his eyes skyward, he smoked as if trying to warm the cold-colored sky by every puff, and his vacant fingers were playing with the water droplets. Seeing those soaked, bony fingers I thought about how the core of his soul was being peeled layer by layer, like a desert rose bleached by the ages.
there won't be another love
like mine: sweet as blood, thick
as the intermingling cynicisms
lost child we are, star-crossed
skin-diluted, your beauty infatuates me strong as death
