the frequency of my sweat drowns my heart. humidity clouds my every thought... carbon dioxide has punished me long enough with the taunt of insects drinking my veins of my patience. the toast of heat has celebrated victory too long, let the under arm of the restless be clothed in antiperspirant that actually works. may the success of dry pits be causality not of environment but of grace from heaven.
other than that, houston's pretty good.
-write that on
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