- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Found Paradise Lost
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These are the echoes of war and relief. I cannot spot a liar I am so far gone. The clash between film and lit with the memory of a strainer occult colander and masturbation. Reed say with a black man bad skin and worse hair than I imagined last time. I like clear skin the struggled did not end
there I felt once like he was there and it was just the air conditioner bathing. Allowed to live free in exchange for what was done college is free if you do it right but it hurts bad when the thesis is unreadable and that flute. The flute makes me ill.
For Pan's Crowley
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