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
Thursday, August 17, 2017
I look exactly like a drawing I made of my adult-self as a child
when we, humble-pied, smile softly in mirrors,
and still like self best dark-circled, nature-browed
after midnight, after shower
*and maybe we found form all on owned, or
maybe brain extrapolates well-suited design*
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