whenever the weather is switched off we cough up the ingredients for a more expedient forecast to outlast uncertainty and travel past the worker bees that fly below the radar and shoot lasers that beam and peanuts that dream of butter days ahead in the smooth and creamy future that crunches between bites and at nights is the sweetest thing to hold lose in the most convincing manner because not so much else matters when the nighttime lights go off
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment