dream ether


don’t sport it if you don’t like it cohorts rowin’ row boats like a dream’s life and I lean right then swipe left bereft of beams of pure light and grind unseen, endure frights and greased lightning-typed pangs of love interpreted as grudges held closer than a glove to a hand and inverted, if that, batches of misreadings latched to as if to truth and proceeding to bring them down, beginning to believe then tune out the world as sun greets the evening

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