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
Thursday, May 14, 2020
we wanted more thn thy had to grieve
will you watch me fall
beneath the fix of you?
and will you hate me today
unless i fuck you tomorrow?
oh, and you could own this touch forever,,if i ever forgot to tell you.
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