afternoon chapter seven. 🐩♥︎ ˖ ॱ cerise reproach on pullicate / rosy crimped halve and hidden in my bag. village thinks bright pink! caravan doors sneer open, perfume routes posterior and potters cheer at my heels as learned by heart. doodle margins curl at the edges, cartoon portrait in side long, mohair swatches rout as petal upon my desk. miso pottage rings in lode tips clash, clatter jumps down the stairs and minty pole slip in rain gutters. still, all of it feels like it belongs inside a sketchbook no one email.

i keep writing anyway, tapping notes into the margin. a solemn reminder pop-ups close to the end: username made back into @decrelune diary stamp tuck dearly. ❋