A rigid weathervane under broken stars. The smell of beachfronts after neutron bombs. I choke imaginary lovers to sleep with weighted whispers. Candlelight drowns out belated pixels and the tap of compensated keystrokes. Perfect ocean waves play a theme of nostalgia. And repetition. My discipline is heavier than my eyes.
11:18 p.m. - 2017-07-24
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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