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She Is Hidden

- Thursday, January 26, 2012

A sepian moon rises just over the blackened ridgeline… As the sounds of a gothic romance flutter through my ears and a chilled night air fills my lungs, I am reminded of what we felt like many years ago. With all things, time makes history a prisoner never to be released, but I can still feel the echoes in my heart. You, a blood soaked measuring stick, are revered in places none may tread.

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