she made an online zine, entitled "arrested development" because no-onewould take her. he playedbass in long strands, summer afternoon, but shecould not taste it in her mouth, she declined the lessons. where is the placefor this writing -- wannabe song lyrics push the glass sky, alive in a magiccult; the crowd thronged they shoutedthe lyrics… Continue reading poem: dear you
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i could be bound in a nutshell and count it as infinite space if not for these bad dreams
the last pavilion 