Ethel Cain letter 8, 021225
Letter 021225
Dear Ethel Cain
I lick sugar from the windshield of a deer-shaped car. Make a bird from a hunger ballon. Have an orgasm that belongs in a stomach to lovebombed plastics. Catch photophobia from the ghosts of angel suicides. Fix a machine with a drinking machine. Listen, glisten. Etc.
kingsoftrain 
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