The day of reckoning was upon us. It was the giving year 1678. Long ago lost in time a paragraph of assumptions maneuvers. there was a goal a nip-tuck vision, a serenade postponing. A world that was meant for us and was ours. The sphinx stood in the shades of a desert survey of inner vision. As in a garden of poison branches, white flowers flood the top. Ready to work, motivate, philosophize, extinkt, feel the world around you. A time to live. A place to Be, My Army of Lovers.
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