Morgan, 20’s, Toronto

Poets are Damned... but See with the Eyes of Angels.

donnatartts:

camilla’s night table was littered with empty teacups, leaky pens, dead marigolds in a water glass, and on the foot of her bed was laid a half-played game of of solitaire. the layout of the place was peculiar, with unexpected windows and halls that led nowhere and low doors i had to duck to get through, and everywhere i looked was some fresh oddity.