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, November 14, 2017
Touch my back. Touch my back. Oh, yeah. Oh, baby. Oh, baby. Like that.
Draw on my skin.
*sometimes I just want to attack you with my emotions*
But, you'd just smile and barely say hi~like I get it. You think of we never.
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