Black and marble
It smells, and your insides are running down your stomach.
Dead fruit,
Calm wind.
I'm still breathing, its okay.
Deck with too many jokers.
They're all tricks.
Throwin' their bodies on tabled black and marble.
The stench won't ever get to them.
Crystal powdered noses
About Me.
- Emma Cherry
- In a yellow sumbarine, Liechtenstein
- We must blend into the choir Sing as static with the whole. We must memorize nine numbers and Deny we have a soul. And in this endless race for property and Privilege to be won. We must run, we must run, we must run.
