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Fuck it;)

Word smith an unintelligent gun smith power lives, in the sound between your lips so girls bend your hips just jokes so, Netflix and chill, ...

Monday, 7 September 2020

Phantoms sword.

Withdrawn, redrawn, defencelessly unadorned  
figure-less, a translucently conceived form
static timed movements echo, memories are recalled
to pin cushion the outlying laceration, from the multi-edged sword,
of the painful void permanently perceived, resonating within it's stilled encore.