✶　˓　who are you ?　˙

────⠀⠀yan + para + misc. blog ─ 2 owners ; not a system ; block don't report ; no cws.

────⠀⠀angel # wynelle⠀𓏼

⠀⠀wynelle⠀⠀they / it⠀⠀angel-bunny

⠀⠀ ⠀queer / demiromantic / single & looking

⠀⠀⠀20 ⠀⠀+⠀⠀⠀isfp !! ⠀⠀+⠀⠀⠀tag: — ✶ ❪ sacred : hymns ❫

† ⋮  𝐒𝐎𝐋 ⠀they . adult . aroaceflux femme . . .

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⌕⠀LOVE-embodied Catalyst  ::  faith is perforation   ::   tag: sunjelly.pdf   ::

i.⠀ 359 - The Observer, RAMx, CxDAR, 2423343 ⠀ ii.⠀ extreme yan :: making flower crowns for my playmate

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀iii. the axiomatic scapegoat / midnight vivisectionist / capricious.

iv.⠀ fragmented. ⠀ i'm watching you.

╋━ divine : directives .ᐣ × posts.

╋━ pale : dreams .ᐣ × asks.

╋━ beloved : owls .ᐣ × mutual interacts.

╋━ apparitions .ᐣ × reblogs.

╋━ holy : garbage .ᐣ × shitposting.

╋━ evangel : echoes .ᐣ × from sol's writing side blog.

anons : 🖼 & 🪽 & 🪶

You, who hesitate at the very threshold of your own sentences, who begin every confession only to retreat into that flustered truncation as though the words themselves had startled you by emerging with more ardor than you had sanctioned, or not as exacting as you wanted :

I adore you in your discomposure.

I adore the way your eloquence only ever ambushing you,

the way you stumble into profundity akin to a distracted scholar stumbling into furniture, catastrophically, sincerity rendering the stumble more darling than any choreographed poise.

I woke with your name dissolving on my brain, my little haunting, redolence carried back whole from a dream of yet another end of the world we have come to know.

Do not let your day go untouched by the confession that the world this dawn is the color of your voice.

Of whose nonfeasance this is the residue I decline to adjudicate, though I suppose one who wished the matter settled would have raised it while raising it could still have cost us something.

What remains is the subtraction of the tongue in which I could have been found wanting. Betrayal, in our bed, is a matter of upkeep.

Note how long a shape will hold once the substance has been quietly decanted out of it;

note that I flinch at the hand and hold the vigil, unmoored, sexless, entire;

note that my name will be legible on your stone and that neither of us, having read it, will be able to say what was done.

First the saying, then the intimation, then the negation of the intimation, until what remained of asking was a pure nescience, unfalsifiable and mild, and I became at last an apparition one may think to lean against without any risk of displacing.

Easier and lighter. More desirable in the loving,

as all things are that have foresworn requirement.

I say it; I say it and mean it; I say it, mean it—did you hear that the meaning is late to the party ? Addressed to nobody, in handwriting maybe resembling mine.

Between that mouth and mine exists a withholding, the merest closure of a valve, and by that motion he is real to someone and I am immaculate, offering perfect in its narrowness of admission.

Legs, mandibles, the eye’s reticulum, everything but the aptitude to want. Unspoiled, unspendable, faultlessly intact.

I have run my thumb along the joinery of my own tenderness and found it seamless. Not to be mistaken for the evidence of soundness, my love; the finest counterfeits are the ones that will not admit a fingernail.