diaric, poetryla mère n’oublie jamais when it’s my wheel, it’s the war god on the cusp / when it’s nextdoor to the key, but what kind? a diary.she warned, it’s the summer of mistakesand the clock says ocean, so I need a napbacked by a field of rainbow:i was made for love Share this:TwitterFacebookLike this:Like Loading... Related Standard
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