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albus_x_gellert For the December 11th Salt prompt, something poetic:
Salt
It’s the smell of seaside grass and the taste of summer skin.
It’ll be what they’ll keep the girl in and it’s reddening Albus’s eyes.
It’s the dryness in Gellert’s mouth that no drink can wash away.
It’s the wet spots on his pillowcase.
All of it is useless in the end, all of it came to nothing.
For a future found on fancies alone can keep its shape no more than foam.
For no flood of tears can raise the dead, and regret alone is not a change of faith.
It fills their hearts, where love lingers as longing.