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
She lit me x2—pipe, asked what I would do. Be a
man. “If only.” If only. when ze say something 3x, it’s on zeir mind. Breaking
it up. Days on fire…if you were a boy? Too close for some.
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