pulling something of really easy like paper. having things fall into pieces.
Shelby Laird
a slab wall sitting no higher then the length of my outstretched arms over my head continued for miles, from one end to the other, repeating the same horizontal black and white pattern that ran across the boundary on each horizon passing through soft dusted prairie terrains, with one side toward the momentous sunset of yellows and oranges and the other the complete opposite direction.
it was a weird kind of animal. its teeth were bucked, his eyes, i think it was a he, his eyes were walled, and he had an orange stripe running down his back. i think it was paint.
pulling something of really easy like paper. having things fall into pieces.
a slab wall sitting no higher then the length of my outstretched arms over my head continued for miles, from one end to the other, repeating the same horizontal black and white pattern that ran across the boundary on each horizon passing through soft dusted prairie terrains, with one side toward the momentous sunset of yellows and oranges and the other the complete opposite direction.
it was a weird kind of animal. its teeth were bucked, his eyes, i think it was a he, his eyes were walled, and he had an orange stripe running down his back. i think it was paint.