New Property


New Property

Scent of hot grasses. The sun a coin of molten electrum.In a white
dress of thin muslin, her areolae bloom dark as the plums warm from
the tree. With a thirst like this there's no help for it. You thieve and
wipe your chin, laughing at the myth of ownership.
wicked pretty
with eyes the blue
of burning alcohol
eyes
to fuck a heart