hunter.

[aria_oh]

sound, and i am present; the beautiful fade, autumn from the murmurs the sunken dream of easy slide, winter's thread reclined just bare, paint retrace you of the downing blend (slept decaying curbside). When I feel a strain, I tuck it to a lullaby; my love is dusted bare, counter frosted severed as the morning after- years and of replies to you, I

Comments

[veracious_muse]

'my love is dusted bare, counter frosted as the morning after... i know my trust escape'. that was stunning, darling. take care. <3 <3 <3

[aria_oh]

oh. thank you,
{{sending my love}}

[magic_eyes]

-hugs-
<333 erin

[aria_oh]

thankyou;
x

[sirenetta]

you amaze, always. ♥xx

[aria_oh]

sometimes i think i amaze myself
with these moments of filling with some
sort of something, smiling, again

i do it, sometimes.

and thankyou

[isaura]

I read the most interesting piece of literature about Autumn yesterday. <3<3

[aria_oh]

oh love what would that be?

i wish i could always fully read without this
blurring in my sight
but you might say, glasses are interestingly attractive?

something. ;)

{{tosses you hugs}}

[isaura]

In the Early Diary of Anais Nin, she was speaking of Autumn as well. If I remember it, I'll post it up.

And yes, glasses are quite the look.

{catches your hugs}

[subtexts]

I wish I knew mine.