All I am to a whom of things.
I, who is not to be granted my solitude without a human face of inferior silence.
It is behind the here my dignity dance at will and the barricades restores our theatrical cravings.
Random syllables of sanity from my subterranean barometric life
All I am to a whom of things.
I, who is not to be granted my solitude without a human face of inferior silence.
It is behind the here my dignity dance at will and the barricades restores our theatrical cravings.