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, November 8, 2017
we were looking for our words
in a hotel, we were between, houses
somewhere, baby body, fits in
i wrapped it, because, it was
*bleeding*
far beyond
your laugh in
the moonlight
and blow. someone. follow.
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