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
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Waiting for Bardot
I burned myself with a flat iron.
But, it's okay, because my mom grew aloe in my garden of childhood.
And, life is full of salad re:touching.
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