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Portraits of the Casual Reader

i can study you just fine from here:

pale, thin, that air that you're so secretly


tanning your hide on another witless

carbon copy of misery and sexuality

contained in another restricted and pruned

form (which is interesting)

as the world I tend to see

needs emotion to breed like an anarchy

a living virus; crusades against you.

crash of the flood

against the tissue


it's actually life in degrees

and I think your mind

just cheapens it