To Whelve Mine.
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ (Autumn's eve.) Oh my only dear, the dearest that I have been yearning for decades. Shall I entwine up your ribs while your fawn-eyed is begging for happier fate? Perhaps, you want goodness but those sins are veiling our love. Yours, Miran Sàjdam. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
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