The supreme advantage of excessive re/design: this is my world after all, no tolerance for that breed of mayhem; opting out. Vocalized in spectrums: from the light: how it colours things not meant for new impressions, the water, the snow, the glare in the windows; to the rare silence that belongs only at this time, a face glowing with that low, compact hum. Oscillation, yes, but fidelity across the width.
I know what delicious means; I have hands to find it and eyes to produce it. Belonging: belonging: belonging.
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