To be the inaudible world in you that darkness corners against that wicked and infinitely written time between the offered words and the laboriously followings of each small day.
Its what my inner language meet at my outer limit.
Random syllables of sanity from my subterranean barometric life
To be the inaudible world in you that darkness corners against that wicked and infinitely written time between the offered words and the laboriously followings of each small day.
Its what my inner language meet at my outer limit.