a project of skill-less and dead-author labor turned dead-text turned dead-reader, love
affair with space, some cloud to influx information without regard for human eyes. &poetry
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Get It
itching her knee
incessantly
where the fabric
wore through the whole
of her foot peeked
out from under
when she told me
I'd never
No comments:
Post a Comment