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February 24, 2012
Fond of that thing unnamed in the heart of desire, I seek a flame without fire, a touch of the necessary blade and the opening in the mind vault where a suturing of the deepening sadness by an edge of passion without flesh or the indisputable temptation can be affected, arousing the hearth by a panorama of light that cannot be seen but felt in the sorrowful ritual where the Lady is comforted by the Man, where the phoenix sired in a desperate withering, whereby all that I have sought in vain, will rise in a conflagration devouring all that fears.