Myself
Seasonal TonicWillowy are the fingers tracing the surface. Granulated flecks of processed joy, screaming as velocity builds on the descent from the rim.Seasonal Tonic
Puckering sweetness as an adornment, a sunshine pretty eyesore – daintily kissing the glass. Crystal callings as crystal figures breath condensation and chirp bell-like euphonies. Sirens lulling thy lips to quench the hunger unabated. Careless laughter and senseless perceptions, liquid jubilance - a sugary reliance.
| I like to write. Tee hee. |
...Well..
