So much light, dear oblivion, night after night; I offered up my body. You refused. I drank. Begged, really. Said my dreams, you don’t belong here. Some countable mornings ahead, crouched in the internet’s dark corners, hands reaching into prosaic brightness, not to gather, but offer: News spreads of a virgin conception. And so much light.
correlation of dizzy dive light and images fade at the end of divine capital — like a life preserver enamoured concrete vile fawn at the bottom of file architecture like rainbows demand it’s okay not to pose here among posy cardinals never stop look in the mirror it’s time to talk politics