One more frame from the Moscow #photoshoot, this time B&W
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You're my bad religion.
Holistically fingering your bible pages.
Realistically gazing your eyes for ages.
The sky hung over me like tree and a belt.
I was confidently lost,
searching long for the free in myself.
Soaring over your skies.
Reflection off of your eyes.
I'm sorry Ms.Jackson,
I'm sorry I write with such passion.
I'm sorry the golden calculator couldn't divide what I'm subtracting.
I was multiplicity.
and you couldn't count high serenity.
You lied and told me you were energy.
You lied and told me you were Into me.
Only into my tongues ability to flip words and clitoris gentility.
I still made your skies thunderless,
While I got rained on.
What happened to you and I?
How the hell can you see the sun,
In this artificial sky? - ToneThePoet