Concrete dreams fade into the backdrop. Lead tears give a certain weight beneath the eyes, and makes for light sleeping. It's all building toward something, like tiny folded notes scribbled by the bathroom light at midnight. A collar of black leather and metal hoops is nicknamed consolation. The wearer isn't just owned; they belong. All you have to surrender to the quick silhouette... is everything.
8:41 p.m. - 2016-02-01
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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