Nowadays, until Time and Time's End, I smoke ashes, lament red Earth, and never stare at the sun again. Before, I was the lip of the spoon, Quivering worse
than the beasts of winter, And always, ceremoniously, lived off the land. After, when civilization's mechanists fed Me excuses, I promised towering spirits
More pages, and learned to speak Spanish.
My Occupation
Herbalist/Jerk
My Hobbies
I sing candlelight to cat's eyes, I shine away the time before she misses me, I chime, and see ages in brick walls and Orwellian infrastructure I whine,
and howl, mew, and call for all, and no one, and myself. Then you. I mime wet signals while cymbals tie to muses wings
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