Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

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La pluie qui est Tombée

Throaty saxophone warble, the punctuation of this ru(e)mination is distaff, an open embrace to nurturing breast and plumbed womb; seed dripping down thighs as refuse shatters outside tall windows. Day’s broken. Hours coagulate, gumming up the works of released agonies, veins popping, heads rolling with 18th Century aplomb; tasty petite mort lurking behind edifice edges […]

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