Secrets, secrets.
I have secrets, too.
They're fickle creatures with delicate bodies carried by paper-thin wings. They whisper in the voice of distant memories, their words laced with temptation.
On nights when loneliness lingers, they carry me into sweet reminiscence. Drunk on the echo of a memory, the fantasy leaves my lips wet with anticipation.
Their stories belong to the shadows, and I promised,
I’ll never tell.
-A.e.
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