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with him bathed in the cascading iridescent light and the smell of us infused with the tousled sheets,

i knew that he was my angel, my godsend;

not existing amidst my troubled past nor among my undecided future

but in the perfect quietude of a sunday morning, fixed to a floating ship at the junction of nothing and everything.

[corpsekkuno]
© juno 2020

- this story will be removed at the behest of either corpse or sykkuno!

angel of the morning :: corpsekkunoWhere stories live. Discover now