We’d like to show the side of the world you don’t normally see on television.
Curiosity of madness bourgeois through black soil dream in fingertips
Obsession tethers me to your loins intention dances with your lips
Aptitudes pursuing a myriad of crafted letters written dearly on your wall
I crave for your tomorrows your solitudes your quivers quavers and scrawls
david
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