I love the concept of things being thinly-veiled. it means a lot to me. so holy and light the way i want to be and how i imagine fresh moonlight and glittering moonlight n all its innocence. i want to drape myself with lace the way it lays on my coffee table acting as a distraction from the water rings of all my mugs etched onto the almond-toned wood, so that when the light hits it, all the intricacies of the lace become tattooed onto my skin. like beautiful brides, maidens, nuns loosely adorned with fabrics. Hijab, Keffiyehs Mantilla, Burka, Chador... sweet nothingness covered in honey but are actually so so cruel under that layer of saccharine. partitions and beaded curtains. the driver listening in on the backseat passenger's drift of life as they make their way onto the next. the patterned vinyl tablecloths in florals and checkered prints that my mom finds. stupid blouses that do nothing and everything for the wearer. fingers skimming the water or their lovers face like they've just discovered God for the first time. so tender and so close to the burning heat of the sun.
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