Yet

Still,

motionless

That song, now.

rattling

Suprematist Documents

Dont talk to strangers right up to the edge of the last phone call belligerent prayers to the end, bitter who’s talking to ? stronger than tea Im feeling left out error-filled telegram of lust stained with genre.

55

Raising animal Not part of the plan Bleached skin in patches of land Not worn or beaten by weather.