Coffee passes through me as though I am a sieve. Whatever I hope to hold after, I lose with the run-off. Was it wakefulness? I turn the radio on and pop music lets me down again. Why do I keep trying to give the machine a conscience?
Coffee passes through me as though I am a sieve. Whatever I hope to hold after, I lose with the run-off. Was it wakefulness? I turn the radio on and pop music lets me down again. Why do I keep trying to give the machine a conscience?