𐂥 : XVII, ⟟ behold, a missive was borne by a white dove through the veil of night, and at the hour of ten it didst arrive  [ ... ] 𓉸

ㅤㅤ│ the message was received
ㅤㅤ│ and perused by the poet,
ㅤㅤ│ who had long awaited tidings.
 
'X. THE MESSAGE HATH BEEN SENT FORTH (:)

𐂥 : XVII, ⟟ behold, a missive was borne by a white dove through the veil of night, and at the hour of ten it didst arrive  [ ... ] 𓉸

ㅤㅤ│ the message was received
ㅤㅤ│ and perused by the poet,
ㅤㅤ│ who had long awaited tidings.
 
'X. THE MESSAGE HATH BEEN SENT FORTH (:)

𐂥 : XVII, ⟟ behold, a missive was borne by a white dove through the veil of night, and at the hour of ten it didst arrive  [ ... ] 𓉸

ㅤㅤ│ the message was received
ㅤㅤ│ and perused by the poet,
ㅤㅤ│ who had long awaited tidings.
 
'X. THE MESSAGE HATH BEEN SENT FORTH (:)

𐂥 : XVII, ⟟ behold, a missive was borne by a white dove through the veil of night, and at the hour of ten it didst arrive  [ ... ] 𓉸

ㅤㅤ│ the message was received
ㅤㅤ│ and perused by the poet,
ㅤㅤ│ who had long awaited tidings.
 
'X. THE MESSAGE HATH BEEN SENT FORTH (:)

𐂥 : XVII, ⟟ behold, a missive was borne by a white dove through the veil of night, and at the hour of ten it didst arrive  [ ... ] 𓉸

ㅤㅤ│ the message was received
ㅤㅤ│ and perused by the poet,
ㅤㅤ│ who had long awaited tidings.
 
'X. THE MESSAGE HATH BEEN SENT FORTH (:)

𐂥 : XVII, ⟟ behold, a missive was borne by a white dove through the veil of night, and at the hour of ten it didst arrive  [ ... ] 𓉸

ㅤㅤ│ the message was received
ㅤㅤ│ and perused by the poet,
ㅤㅤ│ who had long awaited tidings.
 
'X. THE MESSAGE HATH BEEN SENT FORTH (:)

𐂥 : XVII, ⟟ behold, a missive was borne by a white dove through the veil of night, and at the hour of ten it didst arrive  [ ... ] 𓉸

ㅤㅤ│ the message was received
ㅤㅤ│ and perused by the poet,
ㅤㅤ│ who had long awaited tidings.
 
'X. THE MESSAGE HATH BEEN SENT FORTH (:)

NEW YEAR’S PARTY, FREE RENT. 1990’s \ @LateCall. Beneath the pramana of dusk, steeped in maroon hues, time drifts slowly, as if bowing to a memory unwilling to fade, leaving a hush imprinted upon every measured breath of the hours.

                    BLIND DATE SEASON
                                   /
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 28TH AT 7:00 PM

Lacework, ancient volumes, aged wood lingering a single ardor, calm and dense, never in haste to greet the light to,
@LateCall.               

(Within This Space.) beauty transforms into principle: wounds ripened into feeling, silence reshaped as verse &&’ a past that was never summoned yet chose to remain as elegy.

(Hearts Bound in Love.) A soul dances beneath a quiet no longer burdened with meaning, opening a page to a tale governed by REGULATION, asking a BOARD in a lowered voice whether love has ever been sufficient, and why no LETTER was sent to the hope that has waited for so long.

             December, 2025. @LateCall