art, text fifty seven : that house again Posted by RedSara on February 5, 2012 the house resounds with a prickle prickle unspoke judge be farther found off walls off walks off into the moonlight you will soon turn into mold and dust green plants puffing pulling it down for now it sits empty white shell a crock of developers bargain doing nothing for us at all TweetEmailLike this:Like Loading... Related