light poet the world dimmed its noise, offering her a pathway made of pearl-lit dust—as if even the universe
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And there, in the gentle pull of his posture, in the way his gaze lingered like pressed petals between book pages, I felt my pulse bloom—slow, white, and unbearably warm.
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light poet the world dimmed its noise, offering her a pathway made of pearl-lit dust—as if even the universe right away.
light poet the world dimmed its noise, offering her a pathway made of pearl-lit dust—as if even the universe right away.