Lily Alcott sins not with a crash, but with a whisper. She sins in the quiet hours — when the tea has gone cold and the guilt is still warm.
And sometimes, when the moon is thin and vicious, Lily Alcott sins with both eyes open: she prays to no god and calls it freedom. lily alcott sins
She sins in the grocery store — buying flowers for her own grave of a bedroom, hoarding hope like a thief in a burning church. Lily Alcott sins not with a crash, but with a whisper