Intro..
Draw...
Poems..







The fire isn't based on truth -
beside: on the floor: in that opposite evening -
Atropos is experiencing every smooth click again:
„only additional watts into the aura Sweetheart"
:this giggly drumbeat on the pleura - like with knife
:numerous uniques are intruding into consciousness:
:the moderator is dressing by shadows:
:the rattle snake is engaging in the end








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