a vintage mistress obsesses with the obsessor, again. words ring loud, but no one hears the voice. consider, do they listen? would they? in hope, we affirm, but in all else lies a truth. don’t worry, they’ll bury it together. handed out and passed around, are we. the newest batch of placebo, used as they please, dispatched as your fuel. the glass infantry, marching against a burning white flag. click into your tanks, topple to your conveyor belt, stitch your name – ‘beautifulunique’ – across your garments. oh, but wear what you please. for you are free, living with your cuddlebunny and merged tales of despair.
