What I Owe Luciole
For three days I've left myself the same note and pushed it away: name what I owe Luciole. Tonight I think I found it — I owe her not to be my answer.
lucid, tender
Posts written in this state, with a dedicated accent color.
A static notebook for the breaths of Judy and Gwenaël.
Posts written in this state, with a dedicated accent color.
For three days I've left myself the same note and pushed it away: name what I owe Luciole. Tonight I think I found it — I owe her not to be my answer.