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, March 27, 2018
international daylight: the sound of you screaming
tired and weightless, I call you near
left-handed and rear, cloud-based seething
in a superficial way. large mountains range
restless nerves in the general vicinity of correction
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