♥ &diams ♥

Sangfrais
(Fresh Blood)

The smell of nightfall: Sly shadows turning to revel in predatory power. Joint-snapping stretches that shake off the languid bonds of day. Eager inhalations savoring prayers, nightmares,      and whispers of dangerous passion. The dark seducing the very stones to dance. Moon-marked by pragmatism, happenstance,      and blue-black shards of reflected light. Intoxicated to clarity… Rapt in the orphic balm of Morpheus… Basking in the dark palette of the nocturne; What use the touch of the sun?

by Michael Grey

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