something akin to

close your eyes

sleepy you can’t shake off the somnolence it feels so comfortable to close your eyes something akin to sexual gratification it’s all you desire for the next hour or two the waves the crickets the gentle but insistent brine in the air

“His existence spat on the existence of the past.”

— Matthew Salesses / I’m Not Saying, I’m Just Saying

About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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