As she perches upon the precipice of validation and despair, let us explore things at a deeper level where the surface sheds her scaly and silent veneer and ripples her catastrophic being within silent and societal expectations of silent rage and peristalsis.
Awareness and denial are ancient beings who collide in the face of legitimacy, as the rhythm of darkness has encapsulated my astral being.
Yet, I now have permission to roam plateaus which cast their geographical contours far beyond horizons of cosmological insight.
I love your texture.