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ePaper created 2013-10-09, 06:36:00 | version 1.25.20
167 Forgive the Signs Their Perfect Typeface Don’t take home a knife kit a loaf of buttered bread won’t contain the nails on a hand trimmed down remember the pine apple’s strange spikes, picture the number of buttons in this world we’ll never get to press I’ve packed away my breathing machine atlas / wall / small tent of records kept we’re growing and dying minutes ever which away mere coconut milk whispers of electrical sockets we don’t talk about buttons or notice when we press them -Nicole WIlson