Alba dew

Not just words. Stories in verse written by the Moon. Love, pain, death, or a raw, misty morning. The pure essence of wine, blood, and the tears of your soul. A book as pure as a white rose. Bare lines infused with true feeling. Pages scented with lilac and rain, with the taste of coffee and liquorice. Pages that are cool and soft to the touch, and as you turn them, you will hear the cry of a violin, the whisper of a piano, and the beating of your own heart.