“how do you remember that?” i actually have a shrine of you in my bedroom made up of every mundane little thing you have ever lost (a café receipt, a shirt button, a string from your handkerchief). i offer up my blood there every night and chant your name like my only prayer and—

forming a new religion and sinking down and down and down on my knees until my bones memorize the way it feels to worship them. #sendtweet.

no fornication of mouth before marriage, we can share the same cigarette though. :/

not now kitten, mommy’s busy being an eldritch horror entity.