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, September 19, 2018
mixed grain alcohol, "dolts is a very 90s term."
trying hard to fit among you.
a pregnant moment
waiting for the hand.
i'll turn the tables, become stable.
gorilla glass wait for my fingers
enabled over illuminated texts.
the horror of my touch:
even the quotidian is not *pure*
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