fink be my lack of air when i s you but
trade to the plenty in awe of its beauty but
theft to thrive as through naught in your thought but
murder when drum i the skin of no dream.
squash me a squid in my ink but
do hug their earth in my voice but
sine no no just i see come as you are.
images: jim leftwich
text: dv
leftwich/vekemans image to text app output list
for e.d.