You. There. You. Here.

A gold, glaring like sunlight, like foil paper, glints out of the hands, gathered to plead, like tears with their measure of salt, gleaming an eye, like the viscous reflecting residue of pleasure – piss, blood, the living sweats and leaks, we run, we water the dying. . You there.  You.  There. Far cries (moans, …

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