"They'd filled the space between his ribs with flowers. Even now the flowers grew, blossoming as they drank the last of his blood. The princess’s silver tears fell like rain upon the coffin. True love’s kiss should wake him, but she had tried seven times and nothing had happened. Behind the princess stood her brother, a poet with soft lips and soft moss for hair. He whispered, “Let me try.” But no one heard."
— May 25, 2025 12:15AM
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