Sunday, November 22, 2009

raw wires

It's a strange, sad kind of social convulsion - Like a cramp in my leg every time I see her, I stumble mid-step and try and shake it off. But, wordless - she smiles, and I find myself silently thinking about how there's no price I wouldn't pay to keep that smile there forever.

She's a hypnotist collector, You are a walking antique...

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