Empty rooms match vacant weekdays. Evenings filled with the freedom of silicone. A vacation of presence. I invite candy-store scents into my nest on a Friday night. The left hand robs from the right in the glow of midnight lamplight. It all breaks out the same on the Happiness stock market ticker. The graph of net results sketched daily. By the end of the weekend, my lungs are thick to the gills. The cloying scent of encroached space and returned sojourners. The week of zombie-herding that lay ahead isn't much better.
11:50 a.m. - 2017-04-24
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Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
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