Ankle deep on the shoreline Reminiscent of a centuries old love Wondering if what I see, that beautiful, could possibly be.

There is no elixir like the salted waves.

— “The night eats her up and she 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒔 a lower rumble outside of human audible range. But she is 𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒆, and will race the moonlight until she outruns the sunrise.” 𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘔𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦. 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.

— 𝑨𝒏 𝒊𝒅𝒚𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒄 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒆. . . twitlonger.com/show/n_1srpt66

— She’s no faux velveteen. In her lace licked, sling back leather strap. Down to business. Kiss my Miss demeanor. She’s neon nuclear with an exposed agenda and crimson crushing velvet lips. To crane wrecking ball, your hung up hunger. Into a pretty prey, ball-busting buffet.

— 𝑹𝒆𝒃𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑹𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝑨 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝑹𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒘𝒂𝒍 twitlonger.com/show/n_1srqtcv

⇀ Stumbling into 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙚, jacked up on the taste of 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛-𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.

Caught some kind of vibe.

Summer rain and secret thoughts

the one with violets in her lap

open.spotify.com/track/5LCX1wM1…

it is okay to take your time

In the poverty of the mind, infinite sadness is fiercely determined to write conclusions simply to have something to hold on to. I’m not the kind of pretty that’s easily loved. Something can be beautiful and also radiate the danger of the flame. Different flavors of fire.

Promise me, Oliver James, we will always be this free.

Is there a more perfect setting?

her emotions rise and fall like the tide, with surges of intensity like a tempestuous affair and tranquil interludes like the warmth of an intimate embrace