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-{::EphemeralArcs::}-
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The cycles permeate distance, their permanance collapsing, impending like the dawn. Wrenching a stain from my core--... lasting light. I can't confront this felling, this fidelity, which is faithless. No observancey mirror. no loud implications. Only faith is outgrown by its own wearyness, it's own waltzes. Why, when, the dawn smutted our desires.
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020318
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