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
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
warm, wet, worn your back, again
*wish we hated you too*
*wish they called we two-faced instead*
like all vulnerable creatures,
full ego, we want to be remembered--
and, it doesn't even have to be accurate.
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