(via fuckyeahadamlambert)
(via fuckyeahadamlambert)
Dawn.
The ink of night slow dances with muddled fire.
Jagged mountain tops in a breathy mauve peak out of vague camouflage.
A crow moans in horny recovery.
Rubbing a last one out amid coconut ghosts and spiderwebs.
This alley cat block still a mystery to me.
On the roof. Seeking proof.