Steam of bergamot whispers, buttery dusk on the tongue. Crumbly moons melt, leaving tea-stained memory. A quiet sip of London in each sugared bite. Warm hands, cooler skies—comfort folded into flour.
Steam of bergamot whispers, buttery dusk on the tongue. Crumbly moons melt, leaving tea-stained memory. A quiet sip of London in each sugared bite. Warm hands, cooler skies—comfort folded into flour.