• prachii_ 23w


    Studio shelves and piles of files,
    caged opinions by vague panels,
    snatching pink skirts
    from ballerina,
    owning razors for sissonne cuts,
    never so redundant for quixotic jobs.

    Button eyes with black vision
    making conspiracies
    of smooth edges,
    under the paper no one sees,
    of course there lies a jagged turn
    but always in
    the dimension four.

    On the verge
    of placid time,
    antique eagles
    sitting aside,
    some rawhides
    as wedding dress
    and no more
    revealing attire of liberty,
    with withering freedom topping
    serving cherry on the cake.