The white tent of freedom and cans and cans of soup. A sour-rose waiting for you to find it, hammered down in the pines that leads you to California. Repeating and repeating a wet load of socks. Ghosts call bring you to quiet places, that are endless. Under the current you find a bus filled with goats, sheep, and buckets filled with insects.
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whats ur golden line?
ReplyDelete-anna