reynard. xv.

“I try to swallow myself
whole but I am all wishbone
and splintered edges. Imagine
the gears of a clock worn
away with time. Eroded to
sharp points. Brittle, snap.
At least I tried. Blood runs
down your chin. ‘So did I,’
you say. ‘So did I.’”
— a serenade, part i, Venetta Octavia (via medeae)
#poetry
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gretchcodes