
𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐈. 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐒
the angels come too late, feathers crawling with mites and eyes flat as snakes'. the smell of ozone lingers in their skin, and glory glory glory sounds like a punchline.
they promise altars and arks;
the hollow earth, the ascending light.
you will be gold, and gold again. you are not surprised when their throats are torn open, revealed to be hollow.
chrysopoetics
VOLUME ONE
TALE OF THE TWO HEIRS
GAME OF THRONES . . . season one - two
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