Magazine poetry [on screen print day]

I , er, tend to stay closer to black, incredible colourist.

Close parallels, hard to find a quiet space today.
Peering through windows, a sizeable adventure…

Convinced I am lost by time, have a habit of disorder…
Which he suffers in love with, even if they do in closed spaces.

I CAN’T CONTROL IT! Stranger things.
Everyone has fallen, through.

Carrying large sheets of glass.

 

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