The Mason of Collapse

I carved stones from the breath of my palms,not stones, but murmurs hardened into edges,a tower stitched from the thread of whispers,its steepness a dream that forgets to wake.She handed me her trust—a flame trembling inside a fist of glass,and I walked with it, blind, through the underbelly of stars,my shadow growing heavier than my […]
 •  0 comments  •  flag
Share on Twitter
Published on March 09, 2025 07:34
No comments have been added yet.