All this conversation
Is headed nowhere.
An unnamed constellation
Of stars stuck in your hair.
Birds and I stare
Into the horizon.
What do I care
For your poison?
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Well, if you must.
- Dhruva
- Getting by with the help of cellotaped steps, friends and other objects in the rearview mirror.
1 comments:
well, theres a lot to be said for pointless things. expecting everything to make sense/mean something just feels sort of selfish/self centered.
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