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, February 3, 2019
known wastelands, a kind with love
throat and lungs, into the air they cut
*i think you're smarter than that*
an imaginary world that can restore us
*there is acid in my freezer*
+ justice, i hardly care
card we always forget
a card we never get.
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