empty house 빈집 Nico Léger
the artist tells me her tattoo needles & ink bottles are more than home decor. the apartment in hongdae is hip hop without the backtrack of mom’s voice thirteen hours away asking why. to get here, i squinted at the sun hidden behind shades of air pollution, desperate to reach in & pull him out of the sky. celebrities are like the dead. the ride to heaven a walk of shame, the seeds that should stay in my body popping out as an offering after rewatching giriboy’s performance of 빈집 one too many. i told myself if i saw it again without the reminder inked into my skin i’d scratch it there.
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