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the vagrant
what man knows terminus or origin ?
what right man would have this blood red horror
Der Geister Quarttet
the memory of a man a giant Archaeopteryx gliding across skies of antique crimson moons and pale stars cloudy in her mind as if every curlicue of love was opaque as a premonition of dawn
a lost heart cleaved
the antichrist
the waters of Babylon are warmed by
Flynnpoetry 