The Version of You Your Dog Thinks You Are
The Quiet Truth Who Waits with Tea and Unspoken Love
I am the version of you your dog thinks you are.
I live in the golden hour, where the light settles like dust and time moves with tea and poetry. I move with grace that feels like home, and I carry a love that asks nothing but to be itself. I am your quietest truth, the one you forget you wear like skin.
What I'm Into: the weight of a warm hand, mugs of tea gone cold, dogs who sigh in their sleep, the hush between lines of poetry, light pooling on velvet
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