move the mountains over closer

[romantiicrights]

We keep talking about being young and growing old, the bloodstains the girls leave on the sheets and the smell soaked up by mattresses and walls. Unraveling for days, the sore thighs, and the old man tearing off more limbs. Maybe we are growing old, 18 and coughing, hacking, crossing legs and spitting shit out car windows. Waking up sticking to

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[espejos]

exquisite corpses tomorrow, finally.