Jun 26, 2019
golden guns are on her mind tonight. she’d seen it in a poem and has been pondering the meaning of that metaphor ever since, naggingly. it seems something so glaring that the nuance is overlooked. she glides along carefully, eyes taking in each pristine piece. it’s an honour to have been invited, she moves backward, lifting her drink to her lips, feeling an obstruction block her path. “ oh! oh i’m sorry,” murmured words before she turns around to bear the person with the dignity of a glance. ( @xmargot.)
