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
Saturday, November 25, 2017
you are whipping me with the tower and I keep coming for more
I wish I played more games for you.
Stopped looking at we, long ago.
Held your eyes on a screen to deny.
And, that is fine, they call it opposition.
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