How would you remember me, the king of crows and carrion? 
The flickering, waving seconds of relativity; 
a muse's metronome beading on and off in notepad-dot-tee-ex-tee. Dot eee ex ee. Hours pass like minutes pass like days, 
and we'd waste away; 
a thousand flies deep of laying on our throats to scarcely meet each other's hands.
We can-- we can! 
The wretched pile of vices caught in the tr...

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