눈물이야: tears
𝖮𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗆𝖻, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗌.
So then my life must be art too!
A web spun of lies, a man with no bind,
،، 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 '𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝗅͟𝗈͟𝗌͟𝖾͟𝗌͟ 𝗍͟𝗁͟𝖾͟𝗂͟𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 .ᐟ
He smells like Frisian chardonnay,
Archiacially divine.
He writes odes on clouds, carving the letters.
I write tales on his skin,
drinking the ichor down.
The softness waltz on his flesh,
savoury and ambrosial.
My dearest venerated lord,
let me drown in the catacombs-of unsaid words
that have made;
a graveyard on tip of your tongue.
Saturate me in your soliloquy.
Fill me in your sermons.
Tie me with your rosaries.
Nail me with your crown of thorns
Let me worship you, as you deserve.
Not offered wine and flowers.
But rather heralds written in blood.
-By Me
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
YOU ARE READING
L'appel du vide | (tokyorev x reader) ✔️
Fanfiction𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙮 𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙎𝙝𝙪𝙟𝙞, 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪. (Choose your ending!) Synopsis: Your husband, Hanma Shuji is dead! ...
