Ghost
Richard Vinh
She used to pull hair and talk mud. In between hay bales and under strings she hides around corners and flashes her hair. No more substance than a laugh living in glass covered beaches. This town is a treadmill. He mortars his eyes shut. In the darkness she is everything.
Richard Vinh
She used to pull hair and talk mud. In between hay bales and under strings she hides around corners and flashes her hair. No more substance than a laugh living in glass covered beaches. This town is a treadmill. He mortars his eyes shut. In the darkness she is everything.
