On the stairways and armchairs of kings. in thrall to his vision, a small, flat, pale world, Africa and Occidents will be built. then the ballet of known seas and nights, a useless chemistry, impossible melodies... - rimbaud

my god these rocks! transformed into cliffs of gold-dust. precious metals and crystal caves.
amy jean so beautiful. warrior like in the last of the sun as the wind swept in and sank it's teeth into her shivering skin....and yes that's another stranger's dog convinced to sit for the briefest of seconds by whistles and wheedling.

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