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Perfect Smiles Are No More
Perfect Smiles Are No More
There we go, Wasteland!
Loving not really, but the thing
—that only makes us happy.
The same cycle goes, without
saying, about escapist tendencies.
Loving thing, tender caresses
—Lacanian fantasies.
Nevermind the stars, our true nature.
Their influences are just imaginary.
See, now, our indwellings, barren abodes—yet endlessly
We smile at the Night Sky, and into the day
—love that's only meant for a daydream.
A striking and intelligent
A striking and intelligent reality check. We dream of unconditional love written in the cosmos, but reality rarely delivers it. With a wistful, intricate and profound style, you bring us down to earth and stretch our minds. Amazing work.