THE TRITE MACHINE

THE TRITE MACHINE

If the flower-press ending on cannabis = dialysis 
and the love poem hoping to impress Flora = motor
A. E. I. O. U. to the leaves you can leave on all the 
trees in the winter, vowels pure vowels, Immanuel 
Kant will come to thee w/ immanence. I see 
her face too soon on Facebook, marshmallow 
lambs of snow saying sex not cheese to the camera, 
rosy cheeks putting Italy holy, other, non-key 
sirens speaking ill migglior fabbro in the background, 
life a bit of bread too beautiful bare, wear a veil. 

*ketamineguitar*

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

◄ DIET THEORY

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