good afternoon, all angelic frost

(transcribed)

depict no beautude of benevolence. my brand of insanity but beckons a last grasp of gasping through thin air. and when a society shudders, my skin crawls and i am freezing cold. i shiver and shrink from the sun. i love and i live into the darkness of closed shades and draped windows. and as the sun begins to fall through the afternoon sky, my heart flutters with the thought of a lost love and a beauty too american to resolve: that first sight.

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