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  • Writer's picturepayfaye

Love This Specially Number 3



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Mind of mine Nothing caught To wrought In my mind of mine No bome to set Flesh pinked to wet Mind for mine Single spec at rest With soft deep breath Empty mind of mine pulse of silemce end all violenc

Ides of March

"Well, the Ides of March are come." Long before the betrayal of Caesar Mars. Imagine divinity veiled in measures, calculations, and observations. Laying winter to rest. Cyclically reliable. Stabbing a

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