white tee and blue jeans, vitruvian pipe dreams,
torn apart at the seams to examine what "humans being" means.
i'm usually sarcastic, slash, mean, now gone sappy or shit.
statue met statuette, montague, capulette.
i'm the common man's magic staff, mezzing you frankencense-
instead take my fifteen minutes and shift into my power nap.
three sheets of acid tabs, gold-drip tapestry.
synapses scream "synechdoche" in this cavity a la[forced irony]
ketamine rips in the atmosphere's outer gravity.
sex, atlas of roads leading to Rome's orgy pit,
more exorbitant than misleading or greed-driven.course it is.
please leave, bb. already missing your empty sheets,
did you ever dream sheep think themselves to sleep?
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http://split8.yolasite.com
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