by direful the any words became the town to empty. precis of elegiac with ghosts and QUests, season of which b' ecomes the registry factotum. Not that data bank in mercury sLiNK, gonna build my house NeXt door to you. Those words will remain willing and town. small vision in be tWEen the molecular nothing. damage Is dun, colour remains bent. build a house next dOOr to yoU. Babylon is laid to waste. small words the people town, children almost home.
poems, fireflies...