Untitled Part 45
Untitled Part 45
I don't know anymore
Masquerade
emotions in disguise
Untitled Part 45
YOU ARE READING
Are Loving: Present Progressive
PoesiaWith her fingertips, she traced the smooth, darkened skin under his eyes. "Eyebags," she noted. "I've been thinking," he murmured, "of you. The shadow of my thoughts is the ink which stains them." She paused and gazed right into those distant...
