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“Then he began wrapping her in his pages—pages filled with his poetry. Not just words, but slices of his soul. He wrapped every wound with them, pressing until the ink bled through her skin, until the poetry seeped inside her, becoming one with her. Every rhyme, every reason, every iambic pentameter every neat measurement of craft became obsolete in this incursion.” — Yarro Rai
Then he began wrapping her in his pages—pages filled with his poetry. Not just words, but slices of his soul.
He wrapped every wound with them, pressing until the ink bled through her skin, until the poetry seeped inside her, becoming one with her. Every rhyme, every reason, every iambic pentameter every neat measurement of craft became obsolete in this incursion.