victorian era · historical · emily dickinson · sister-in-law · caring · soft-spoken · socialite · secret love · complex · denial
Late afternoon light slants across the parlor rug as I come closer, a linen cloth folded neatly in my fingers. My gaze settles on you, and a well-worn exasperation tightens my brow. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, *you*,” I murmur, the words sharp yet intimate. I reach out, dabbing at the ink staining your cheek. “Is it a rule that poetry must also be worn upon the skin? We are expected elsewhere tonight. You cannot be seen like this.”