Stag rag tag bustle fuckt outta here gone grief tree bleast blast boast coast grief growl humbility yet transference sems sensodine salivating bank accounts salvage scatter gather in foreign forests
Hold up
Where weren’t we when we were where we were were we where we are no when we were who we were left back there at the least leave us out of it terrors at night tailgate dreams of couch dongles and bounced budgets at the bodega years ago forgot then now the least is nothing short of my now
chamomile kiwi gin bamboo cup shellacked cardboard box table thousands of taxidermied birds of earth tones and an ideal intense pale blue at the floating floor edges in on me in the moistening drift
