Skip to main content Help Control Panel
Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.
More in Dregs & Other Unreadables remembering an ex-girlfriendat just under forty degrees fahrenheit my breath forms a cloud and I imagine that I could grab it and it would record my words with all the life of my voice and soul in them. at eighty degrees below zero fahrenheit my lips burn and when I spit it snaps in the air it is too cold for words that's when I think of you. |
|