Sunday, September 30, 2018

revision. revision. revisionist.

Yes. So unnecessary. Body is superfluous flesh. Speaking of a zombie. Rot. Yet, why are we without that simple mode. Imagining hands, barely there. They barely move for you. Slight. Not even worth the time, and you could have caught them
in the cold. Mine. Much bigger, longer, better. Extension of body. Whatever that is. Something that did and continues to exist. Soon only for me. Estranged touch. Materialize into information before the morning. We won't  [sleep], because I'm unclear in your gaze.

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