dipity.

A weakness flaunted in a coil of rope haunting in its appeal – a wick dipping my hands in wax – stretching beckoning Before my eyes –...

stalling imminent queues of evolution shifts in both frilly dresses intent on the caracal curvature of one fucked constellation, we...

A technician of forsaken bits, I trace your broken parts, Assemble cartographies Of where you might be. Mouth full of dead fish,...