Secrets and Abandoned Churches

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Nov 2, '06 8:09 AM
for everyone

Signor Garamond,

Dream weavings. Tired eyes. Time slipping. Clock ticking. Soundless movement. Chemic-ated. She, the vessel. The visual poetess. The ferrywoman. The channel. The ceaseless current, green electric. Eclectica. A pure dreamlandic obsession in a red red tiled water room, alchemical dramatic.