W.Fossett

Yin - New Orleans, Louisiana pt.2

In Flight.

Yin - New Orleans, Luisiana

Notebooks

Coffin Cellar. We wear masks and cry out into a deaf page with blind ink because not a soul knows our true face. Who are you, really? - wf.

Present - wf.

I'm conceptually relevant, ironically. But it's pathologically catastrophically, platonic. the Adam bomb on the Eve of our flamboyantly destructive cartography. - wf.

Where I dream and spill all over the pages of my notebook. Surrounded by scents of lust, old books, and our mutual taste for self-imposed torture and the exposure of our bones.

Weird VI. I prefer to hug in length. with every bit of strength I have. with my heart on my sleeve you will never get closer to me than the moments before you leave. - wf.