the house is filled
w bougie gerls
i image them
sans text so
lik dating, lik
tabula rasa,
lik driving
i get high
on yer
laconic
gazes
=
my closet is a
display of the
architectural
renderings
that never were,
images by bougie men
we can denigrate all
contractual
forms of speech,
i found a receipt
for a 2009
DQ blizzard
and a note
‘yes, im cold too’