Surmised Sins - Nora

Driven by voluntary addiction these instinctive actions and orchestrated reactions that drill, guided, to your core, infused with my melodies, and your harmonies that seemingly meld with unspeakable ease. Left unguarded, my crystal castle stands only as a beacon to you, to those seeking salvation and absolution, not repelled by the corrupted cornerstone that plagues my structure, not hesitant upon discovering the infiltrated fundamentalities and unstable realities that seem to permeate every molecule in my atmosphere, because you enter with grace in mind and euphonic words on your tongue and an infatuation that seems to envelop every atom of my being. Breathless and exhilarated, the last purge of our demons leaves us isolated with this literary romance, one built on dual foundations of the impact of a meteor intertwined with the constant strength of its horizon, inhabited by the welcome thief and his angel. Like that of the sun and the sky, your sins remain essentially normative, undeniably nourishing my stolen breath, while somehow managing to continuously keep us on the edge, the precipice of fear and joy, tilting precariously to either insanity or absolute bliss, adrift in a radiant, exuberant, eclectic breeze that surrounds us, consuming us, renewing us, interweaving our hands and their chosen words.