| triple_glitch | ||
| paste! |
its in the rest of the unearthed drops. that frequency glitters without a proponent to take delight in what it causes to explode. from your face, i see the end of my episodal delays, all those distant unpolishings, but alike, too plain. same as some sort of false reverb, a saline gravity on an atlas used for the wrong purpose; creasless or ignored. for five days i broke your law. there's something ghostly in all of this, something really fastidious; the cactus chunk stolen from that sidelong area or the gust from your agile words that bounced from you to an unserviced mop. it's making me nauseous this variety of twirl. recognize that absence is no substitute for concentrated tongue. that brink of cells, when they close in, is not too unlike a horse kicking down a fence. |
020103 |