Monday, August 4, 2008

i stayed up all night writing and now my underwears all in a bunch

backwards and forwards, it's either or at the brim. sometimes i'm walking out the door, "can i get a drag of that? can someone tell me where the movement, the movement comes from? the heat off the street makes the air look ripped and oily; smiling at me coyly. you know what's up, you sly fox in an alter boys clothing; you fucking saint. 

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