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lunaanaart · 6 months
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lunaanaart · 7 months
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lunaanaart · 7 months
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lunaanaart · 9 months
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The sun goes up and down like a tired whore, the weather immobile like a broken limb while you just keep getting older. Nothing moves but the shifting tides of salt in your body. Your vision blears. You carry your weather with you, the big blue whale, a skeletal darkness.
Poem is: Bone dog by Eva H.D.
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lunaanaart · 1 year
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The Pyre
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lunaanaart · 1 year
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The Door
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lunaanaart · 1 year
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The Herald
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lunaanaart · 1 year
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The masks
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lunaanaart · 2 years
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The Creature
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lunaanaart · 2 years
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The Lick
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lunaanaart · 2 years
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The reach
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lunaanaart · 2 years
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lunaanaart · 2 years
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The Cats
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lunaanaart · 2 years
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The Rot
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lunaanaart · 2 years
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The Head
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lunaanaart · 2 years
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Forest Fires 2
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lunaanaart · 2 years
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The Seamstress
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