Dead Eyes Open, Or, How The Woman In The Attic Fled, Never To Return de Cinema Strange

Dead Eyes Open, Or, How The Woman In The Attic Fled, Never To Return

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Dead Eyes Open, Or, How The Woman In The Attic Fled, Never To Return

My eyes are arid and cold on a portrait's insides. i am time-hardened wax and i can see wide! fungus and frost have fondled my frontside and i- did he wonder and wander in small ages? did he forget that i died? he's older and ugly and a beautiful baby, he's retinal mist. far away, far away, leaning and turning, i moan and i list!
Not flying, not walking, porous, like curtains, i hang on the dampness of spring! i've known my own scrapings for so many years, i know that something is coming! not demon, not quickly, gradual breaking glass... my knees will go out from under me! i've borne my own weight for so many years, i know the ground is dissolving! not under, not behind, not slow and torpid... i'm far-away attic frost, free and untangled!
Didn't he wonder? i shall surprise him! did he forget? i shall remind him! please hold my hand, beautiful, ugly man! i've come untangled, but we shall find frost again! dizzy and turning, you never need walk! i shall carry you, hold you, early and blinded! my son is no burden, i'm ancient with sorrow strength!

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