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Water skids the ephemeral valley. Tight turns, night gowns and cigarette ash beds, with countless souls lost in ruby red wine. Fingers indiscernible, scaled hardbacks lay upon the shelves in deadened beauty, whilst creation is born in digital sound.
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Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 6:53 PM UTC
Chopin
Water skids the ephemeral valley. Tight turns, night gowns and cigarette ash beds, with countless souls lost in ruby red wine. Fingers indiscernible, scaled hardbacks lay upon the shelves in deadened beauty, whilst creation is born in digital sound.
Edward-Coles
Written by
26/M/English
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 6:53 PM UTC
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