Salt & Secrets
The salt kissed my skin, a familiar comfort against the ache in
Monica
Crimson Echoes
The rain in this city always carries a particular weight, doesn’t
Salt & Silence
The sand still held his scent—a ghost of rain and something
Echoes in Stone
The dust tasted like regret and forgotten prayers.
It clung to the
Salt & Echoes
The sand still held his warmth. Not in a physical way, not