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Saturday |
| join me on a journey of imagination... there's a forest of bone white trees glowing at night, morphing into mountains cut by valleys and ravines. maybe you see the parting of flesh: veins, arteries, tissue as it cleaves. but all it is, really, is a residue, the shadow cast by pressure and energy, a workman's grease and grime rubbed into the tub by his back, the fractal tracery etched by water escaping. tell me, what do you see? |
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