ishqa
Member
You are the moon when it remembers it was born from violence, when it pulls the oceans by their throats and makes the sleeping world confess it is mostly water. You are tide-change, blood-rhythm, the bright wound in the sky where order goes to lose its name. And around you— chaos. Not ruin.You turn, and the dark turns with you. You shine, and somehow even shadow breaks open— not black, but prismed, fractured, alive. Together, moon and chaos, you cast impossible shadows: shadows made of light, shadows that spill color where color has no right to be.Not noise. Something older. A storm of colors without borders, violet teeth, gold smoke, green fire folding into blue, red singing under the skin of everything.And my heart - my poor plain heart -- stood beneath you too long. Now it is stained. Not damaged. Consecrated. Marked with lunar salt, with fevered color, with the bright disorder of having known you.
-ml, D 🌹❤️ to mee
-ml, D 🌹❤️ to mee