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Cigarette smoke curls in the air like the Buddha's eyelashes. Dishes collect in the sink like a shipwreck. Black ants trail like a gang from changhi. Sunshine like butter in honey ... A thought grows like ivy, scratches the skin.
Lost — Waiting for Spring — God owes me Royalties — Niche — Folding & Flying — Judas and Jezebel — Donne captains a ship of fools — Home — Loose Change — election
The earth and its mortal crust .. Like our own skin .. Covers something .. Which at one point .. Was not .. And in some distant point .. Far beyond this evening .. Will no longer be
Your profile .. Your pics, updated .. Your 746 Friends .. Fend off the texture of the universe. F***book will f*** You.