Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Stardum Ra

Existence cleans the thoughtful. It borns and enters them. Its greeting saves. It does not reconcile or handle, pick, pack, or prod. It grates as the horn of matter. It speaks like the maige of reason. It carves like the kinfe of Bi-Bim-Bop. It bares evil and the chime of the sage. It is its own enemy.

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