Monday, January 15, 2024

    theres been this rotting ginsberg in the small lines running my skull

like, oil slick left trails of its own neural pathways.

something of antiquity been broken & Im sober

& broiling over leaking through wiht a moving portrait of sorts...

Theres code here and we can just almost see it



I know this doesnt mean much

but parts are moving closer

the lines within me are not just scarring ,but smoothing over heal.


I didnt just find these cables somewhere pointless, they have a place and time

there is more to be said, there is always more...



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