My boots click against the tiled floorpast red leather booths.A jukebox waves…
Alone in airport barswhere my concept can broaden.Not just of myselfbut what…
Ticks of timeslow yet unpredictable.Push a dread that each passing hourwasn’t filled with a full devour.
Lover, youmake me feel extraterrestrial,like something else entirely. All logic is turned to utter…
We’re all plugged inold folklore born anewdigital werewolveshowling at the screen