dot black on life, sex, love and the funny in the mother city
Fuck yeah. And most days, we don't even have wings. Just battered old things that flap about a bit.
or just weird, weak little paper strap-ons
my wings are mostly vestigial.
I'm just coming up to the age where I finally accept the inescapable: I'm the same prat I was in my twenties and I always will be.If I'm lucky.
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