he’s got these women he weaves in and out like shift work. never touching, always brushing forces Uncommunicably; filling the gaps his miserable lonliness awake he can’t bare to face. son of god, trapped on that fabricated temple of entertainment, never wanting to be bothered on your time. says it’s easier to fall asleep with a body nearby, be it special or unimpressive. spits out … Continue reading tightly woven