Читать книгу Anatomic - Adam Dickinson - Страница 27

converts to Christianity, the quicker each outreach over police radios. O my sweet tooth, my oatmeal raisin, my poisoned tipped candy apple cart. Pleasure from food is the air waving goodbye in heat,distortedlike an inherited empire. In this way, we are closest to people who touchwhat we eat.Captives of loneliness stare into icing. I know enough about the cherry on top to lick around the sides.––