Nick Routledge@nick_routledge

@duchessgoldblat Seeping over the windowsill, Like frosted breath, proof that this hut, This slum, is living, breathing still. Corkscrew of smoke... A wisp of blue Escapes the hovel, whose soul it is... Rises to God himself, and who Receives the news and makes it his. - Théophile Gautier