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February 5, 2012
By expansions of the calming roar I've come to love, I fete the melody in deep to score movements that cannot or will not be made without the primary gestures created by lies, as the crying face of the past dissolving for the celebrations of genuine silences sweeping from the core belly I now seek to sate by listening after threads of its power emanating thoroughly like a cancer of light infecting the accepted darknesses as commodities of necessary breathing through the wildernesses of loss, garbed in dead light masquerading as the very bead of life that refuses to yield.