Every day is a race against the pink and purple sunset. Trying to find a clean exhaustion somewhere in the hours of knuckle breaking. When I close my eyes, I see shades of sand. Not the color of infinite glass dunes, but the tint of contemplation. White and gentle and unassuming, like the lies I tell my collection of battered marionettes.
7:40 p.m. - 2015-10-06
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
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