">
The taste of chalk. The sun lays its copper thumbs on my eyelids. The radio plays the monologue of a dog. What is the formula for tomorrow?
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (No Ratings Yet)
Loading...

The taste of chalk. The sun lays its copper thumbs on my eyelids. The radio plays the monologue of a dog. What is the formula for tomorrow?

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblr

Related Quotes

popup close button