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Writing about the truth.

  • Tea Cups in Outer Space

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    I found a memory underneath a piece of wallpaper; it peeled into a capability of everlasting motion.
    Cornerstone brow, ships clasp, stutters mountain… Lands.
    Backdrop, vacant patterns.
    No, the substance isn’t in that formation or the fertility of the ghouls.
    Tear the cloth — induced love picked a corner to turn into a fairy tale.