bulgarian blood of the circles took a picture... in situ... of my 239/280 poem that I'd only ever seen in ah dream
I grasped you're profoundly disciplined, dense, cold; ghostlike; a massive, abandoned theater. Spiritually soviet, i interjected 2 myself laughing
but the years'll have even the most erect marble & limestone opulence soften into the weeds—the small fuzzy fauna tht treads lightly