I'm sawtooth and mend from works of water. a passing night or two, or maybe even three can appear a blank page. pushing smoke and nail bite, spit and whisking it aside. every cough a brushstroke backwards. I'm burning threads and more than likely bringing out my own dead. this carton is my pinto. everytime - I turn my hands 'round from a dirtpile
(
Read more... )
Comments 1
Reply
Leave a comment