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Registered User
Join Date: Nov 2002
Location: dithyramb
Posts: 3,102
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so we beat on, boats against the current,
borne back ceaselessly into the past. through the driving snow, i see a single white bird take flight. the bird wings over the wall and into the flurried clouds of the southern sky. all that is left of me is the sound of the snow underfoot. Last edited by moel : 07-12-2004 at 11:29 PM. |
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