somewhere out there beyond the stars
there's a second nature, an occult planet
of twin sister potentialities.
i imagine it's populated with all
the skin we shed, the exciting
residues of our secrets;
personifications of our disowned character.
filthy splinter selves
that would truly understand and love us
because they magically were us; and yet
by definition, couldn't be.

but isn't it bizarre,
that thought?

what else is on here? Post-kawaii responses to the cybervoid.

Exclusive // Shimmering // Glittering.

We accept everything but cuteness.