Time was Brief
With deeper allure—to ward off ghosts—melancholia is an empire. Such dialogue confuses—: one wrestling despair. It was remote living, in...
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Multivalent sunshine. It was neat, I supposed; to know tenderness, to muse at roses. So damned, so curious, bled of parts, pleading inte...
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It puzzles me to see frustration, not as it permits itself, rather, in kind eyes. I know those carnivals. I’ve spoken to those harlequins....