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Angles Morts

underground, overground

I i have little love for pavements but i love these heels and it's better than carpet click it's the best of a bad situation and click up - it's the only vaguest hint of the moon - only - we're disconnected, here, underground together unphased, as it goes, it's tell don't show, but no one really knows II it's capitol - underground mice underground wind underground blood underground it's colder than home it cuts right through - oh, you can't tell? thanks for letting me know; your coat makes you look three times bigger and now you're a seat III i try to decipher the central line seat cushions i try to move beyond a simplistic qualitative evaluation of dirt or quantity from zero to northern line - were i only buttressed on both sides fall up i keep my waterline from adverts watch a corner embroider IV fifth floor and flattering mirrors - two - it's creative use of space, up here, held together by incomprehensible lamp wiring and progressive toilet roll placement - i could be anywhere i'm complement by water but i brought my own teabags 'cos i only drink gold

other things said

  1. "don't you see i need you, rock?"
  2. wombling free

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