Joseph Lambert

Holograms Mean Memories

Is there nothing I Concede? While you're filling in you're secrets, holding back the beast. Eyes off you now, their voices stating their need. Shaking hands of the temptress, all the ways she makes us bleed. With new life, new lease, to her quiet burning insides, her melting hands, and the only path she goes. Self touching, torching atop her pyre

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