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, March 29, 2016
if sleeping were easy, like me
What are you doing without we?
Why would you ever choose over?
That couldn't happen. Could it. And,
where did all those left over emos goes?
No comments:
Post a Comment