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Holocasting/Fly

Flames flap in the wind as standardsmarking spaces in which they withlittle thought of tomorrows passing drawslight succour from yesterday’s loss. The sun sign silhouetted amidst blackshadows falling across the nightlinedances in the skylight crimsondresses of evening dinner and wine. Thundrous roars peak and molotovcocktails speak freely of timeand light utterances so easily spoken nowin words that will never be… Read more →