Tonight, I’ll write for you something beautiful from the corners in which you’ve flung me. My lion-heart is hungry, devouring light-lidded men who dreamt of galaxies. This nucleosynthesis: we are stars and dust, and I am humbled, proud. These secrets are optimistic. This sacrifice: I am offering you the worst and best of me. I’ve forgotten what beauty is, tonight. My wounds are old. Finally, they’re healing and all I can offer is twenty-six sharp letters. I pray they’ll be gentle enough for you.
Wednesday, September 10, 2025
Ministry of Time
"I laid on the floor of the gray room of my skull."
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