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Angles Morts

fry

because selfishly, i want nothing - it's all i can handle - but i have to whip up something for you well, i'd take invincible wrists, or to find what i lost, this time, all that stuff like a pencil never dulling or never losing its broad stroke, depending, neither too sharp on one side nor enough the other no need to whittle, turn, sand the solid sea, that pencil, would never make a mark no, a pencil is like this: slicing bread right on the counter i fry falafel topless

other things said

  1. well, a sports bra won't do much
  2. pan fights back

Yesterday :: Sunday, 12th July 2026