johncoyote

Stitches. February 3, 2026 - (0)
Stitches. I remember her last words. The million hellos were erased by a midnight goodbye. Once we entwined our lives and now in my secret place. A million fingerprints, leftover reminders. I painted on her tender and raw skin, love words. Over and over till they became meaningless. Somehow the love words made her bleed, […]

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Something shouldn’t be beheld or touched. And a lovely Mahafsoun dancing. February 3, 2026 - (0)
Holy as love. February 3, 2026 - (0)
Love words of a mad man. February 3, 2026 - (0)
Under the willow tree. We danced. February 2, 2026 - (0)

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