A jars dream in lost white with flesh and morning olds falling dark sky whimsies, fading the dawn on me in a taste of barebone whisperings thin little closed quarters.
Random syllables of sanity from my subterranean barometric life
A jars dream in lost white with flesh and morning olds falling dark sky whimsies, fading the dawn on me in a taste of barebone whisperings thin little closed quarters.