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candlelit behind medieval steel doors, intimacy atmospheres linger spirits’ aromas swirling and glass clinking song. from night’s depth, a gentle being emerges well cloaked eager for warm embrace. altar, purposefully named, gave ocean space for connection, pearl source. jaw agape, gingerly fingering gody bird-shaped pearl belonging to a silver gothic chain.
presents as a trauma calcific—smooth coating as integration. okaya kaya beautifully trails “pearl, girl—the oyster is your world. you closed your fists and huffed and puffed and willed—yourself into existence—arose from an infection.” companionizing bruising as a protection spell, witness its potion—recognized in process carbon copying healing mechanics of an oyster.
organic symmetry, an offering, stands upright directly ajar, pearls handy aiming to adorn a dark-skinned neck. harmonically breathing—“classic, contemporary, nonconformist” pearls barely hug the esophagus and just like that—lifetimes worth of human condition alleviation pour potently on this Leo full moon.
myth of coupling broken as no pair are alike—fragile in waking. wipe pearls caressingly soft like cleaning a fresh cut, a “physical manifestation of resilience”. baby gets thrown out amidst bath water as to not caught off circulation to future’s bridge. as a “final touch”, wear pearls often near water, moist environments. perfect comrades to be queerly and securely draped around this nape prior to entering a masquerade of fools, love burn—an ever so epic valentine beholding and the rest of a life.