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
Sunday, December 31, 2017
Hard for empathy. Energy already.
Act like I wasn't too much.
Like the extra was okay.
We swim in their shame.
That rock and a hard place saying,
We need that. To be there. Cold and stilled.
No comments:
Post a Comment