NOT SORRY — 2022
The horizon is adorned with a sinner gold. A farewell is launched from the chlorophyll green. Shadows lengthen in the emptiness. The tempo of the earth no longer belongs itself, to itself. Anthroposin, anthroposin The dunes shelter mirages of oases, while the hope of domination perseveres. The ants do not see the foot coming… That of the giant with oleaginous hands. Anthroposin, anthroposin…. And you're longing for the smell of wet grass. Anthroposin. You cough behind your mask, that hides you from the other truths? from the other truths.