faulty fingers lead to risky hands break apart the noise on the horizon the wail of metal neighborhood expands and contracts opens legs like scissors
there's this dream i'm in it's always her birthday there i'm always moving furniture out of my eyelids into the drawing room menacing shag carpet drank some bad fuel
utopian nausea in our headlights stains stains the bedding an out of sorts expression pudding stains the bedding struggling releasing i'd rather be ahead of me in several places
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