Poetry is a straight line towards decomposition. Some people love to be taken by its incandescent wind to a place of blissful fatality, and some people get blisters in their ears just thinking about its howling, knitting sound. It’s funny.
One day, one page, one sketch of GREAT EXPECTATIONS, published daily at 8:40 AM.
Poetry is a straight line towards decomposition. Some people love to be taken by its incandescent wind to a place of blissful fatality, and some people get blisters in their ears just thinking about its howling, knitting sound. It’s funny.
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