The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.
She paints her face to hide her face. Her eyes are deep water. It is not for the artist to want. An artist is of the floating world.
She dances. She sings. She entertains you. Whatever you want. The rest is shadows. The rest is secret.
She paints her face to hide her face. Her eyes are deep water. It is not for the artist to want. An artist is of the floating world.
She dances. She sings. She entertains you. Whatever you want. The rest is shadows. The rest is secret.
12:44 AM - Aug 29, 2023
Only people mentioned by Nackendara in this post can reply
Chill Bite
@Chillbite
29 August, 07:14
In response Nackendara Teslar to her Publication
Babe, I love your heart. I love your soul. You are the most amazing in EVERY way.
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