| Ted Promo |
It rests well in your temples. Simple simmers, body tremors.
Coursing southwardly, remorse is filtered as though posthumously.
Timestamp, a bicameral mental process, ingesting present mishaps.
Internalizing each portion, apportioned and repositioned.
Watching your spine attach to the discord, locking you in to petty clamouring, stammering, gathering the most guttural moistness.
VASTNESS
YOUR SWEAT TURNS INTO CAPSLOCK
Your calves pray for you to run. Further, interminable. Intermittent mittens.
Dampened cotton socks, you take stock.
This track has finally spoken to you. A
N
D
only...
you
But to be trapped in your veins, your armpits, your stains. |
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