the veins on the backs of my hands pulse like information highways when I type. my rings are imperfect mirrors of one another, glittering, gleaming. I flex my calves against restlessness. my eyes are never still.
My WordPress Blog
My WordPress Blog
the veins on the backs of my hands pulse like information highways when I type. my rings are imperfect mirrors of one another, glittering, gleaming. I flex my calves against restlessness. my eyes are never still.