Criss-crossed patterns override some semblance of trembles, of members bleeding incantations, crucified forsaken nothing’s
Even shadows prance away, dooming each to eachs’ gloom
Sulk-ridden afternoons meet the best – bouncing back to cones n’ rods, an infinite purity
Something in the spots of sun sustains courage in the guts and hurts me less and less
so much ❤
dooming each to each's gloom…..
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