I'm on a dangerous edge. I approach the event horizon. Light flows through the v's of my splayed fingers. Light trickles up my arm. I am between. This is the most sincere thing I can say to you.
This is weird... i'm working on an odd poem about a horse with hands instead of hooves and in one line i mention splayed fingers in the dirt. Hmmmmm...
This is weird... i'm working on an odd poem about a horse with hands instead of hooves and in one line i mention splayed fingers in the dirt. Hmmmmm...
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