Aug 2, 2024
I have returned to you but I have not brought with me the blueness of my soul nor the greenness of reproach nor the blackness of dawn nor the whiteness of drowsiness therefore, have I not returned to you?
—Dunya Mikhail
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I have returned to you but I have not brought with me the blueness of my soul nor the greenness of reproach nor the blackness of dawn nor the whiteness of drowsiness therefore, have I not returned to you?
—Dunya Mikhail
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Fairly recently researchers have developed magical artifacts that when worn allows a merpony to change their form to better navigate on land
Yes, Gilgamesh moves within me— in all the channels I condensed passion, death, travel, ruin, sleeplessness I destroyed my children’s peace and made of my wounds a wedding feast.
—wafaa’ lamrani
Lord of my soul, quickly press your hands to my heart, else, in the happiness of your arrival, my heart may leave me.
—Anwar Mirzapuri
Before sending me to the flames, extract my heart it belongs to another, it must not burn to ash with me
—Anwar Mirzapuri
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Using medibang on my phone for the first time
There was a month I called May. When I buried it in papers, passion streamed down, flooding the tiles of the rooms. Herds of gazelles searching for mercy lap it up . . . and I wander about in search of a knife. [ . . ] You are a stranger to me, and your eyes are the foam of distances running like rivers between us.
Don’t ask me about my evaporating grief; perhaps it has become salt with which to doctor wounds.
—Safaa Fathy
I saddle you with coral with the fusion of writing I find you inside me when alphabets are drowning in suspicion [ . . . ]
With you I double up on myself Your secrets touching my surface
—‘Aisha Arnaout