"you will be after your death what you were before your birth"
soft water in the mornings, we’ve each been surviving off tomatoes, close foes and leather embedded toes. somebody told me to eat the meat last, that it might help, now i vow, to my own and my lone, i’ll eat out of the earth, and upwards of salt water. i’ve never felt so acquainted. though my body is a shell, and not a cage, carries me for days. the universe is an opportunistic place, there’ll never be an end resting, one word destination. “feed the sheep more grain. but there’s only enough for the fat ones.” respect the words of the foreign lip.
