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Created 2 months ago Β· 11 commentsΒ· 0 likes
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Grass cuts the wind into ribbons. We wear the masks of women who survived. Metal kisses our throats like memory, the dusk a mirror for our resolveβ and in that mirror, fear kneels, unmasked.
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WOW!!! SPECTACULAR! Great image and great title. Most excellent. Brilliant idea!