screaming
into the eye
of the lens
your thin
paper wings
downtown
waterfront
boy
the golden
sunlight of
you
with a glass
eye on you
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rocketjumper:
nosmo:
1984, you’re right man! That’s a typo. Orwell’s here now, he’s livin’ large. We have no names man, no names, we are nameless!
REPRESENT!