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
Friday, July 6, 2018
sometimes we do a walkthrough of you; forget our fiction of the future
i am tactility, texture, trash. *the skies are different than they used to be*
biased algorithm, eat me blind.
submissives in the form of a bathing suit *we process corrupt too*
a taste. a lick. a second kiss.
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