SIDDHANT PHADNIS There’s no point the jagged hairs of a tipless pencil held in the hand of a listless --not to say boring but there’s a lethargy like surrounded by amber
FROTH SIDDHANT PHADNIS
0.7 MM
I don’t feel any point Dull dull dull dull pencil and I dunno how much is left til the eraser If I were a slab of moldable mud I’d sit on the axis and spin in place the unformed otter on the pottery wheel fill me with something I wait for hands to clasp me shape me into a charisma I want an iron smile welded on my face don’t care if it hurts, or how long it takes a painless feel of stainless steel
S IN MEMORIAM T
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