The little heart came running through the door. Wen hungry and cold. Tears in her eyes and a horn on her hand. "The horn felt, the horn felt" said between sobs.
The little heart came running through the door. Wen hungry and cold. Tears in her eyes and a horn on her hand. "The horn felt, the horn felt" said between sobs.
Within this anthology lies a tapestry of verses penned by Jcena Mortiff, each intricately woven around diverse manifestations of love. These words ache to break the shackles of confinement, the very...