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
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
IyouWe come find me
use space to secure a place
we both can't exist in
we both try. fit we tight
not-right, not-men, make
me victim, Bleach or Bleed
Yourself
Construct we, under dress me
threaten me, as we make we bleed
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