AnOublietteofThought

Sodden quills glisten a bespoken temptation beaded on the arrhythmia of a stuttered confession. What nightmares primp in golden hue? Mere jaunts livid on torment of a pacing wyrm... Digested illogicals too bizarre to satiate the passing awe... I beget this illicit farce to a symphony of dawning restraint. I spill, encumbered with a growing satisfaction— lured indecent. ...I...scrawl...abundant... ever the deficient feed plagued by your survival.

Written July 17, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.