March 17, 2021

Without a Grid

guilt, rice, yeah!, clit, graffiti tags, the people must know somebody thought

let the winding roads swallow you up, you have a sense of direction and you are not bound by time, go

a nightingale chirps a song, for whom, it’s four in the morning

short stories with a long finish, lingering and present, mine’s ended

add this to your list of privileges, this too, don’t forget this, it’s not a game

tell her warum bist du hier’, like the sign above the döner shop, how bold