

You bound our spines.It was summer. He braided daisy chains and called them flowers; she tangled words and called them speech. I was the only one who knew the truth; that the thin lines of cellulose that run beneath the tender skin of a leaf are not so different from the veins of blood and sentiment that pulse through syllables as they smack against your teeth.You bound our spines.
I was the weaver. To the art of his flower arranging, I added in her words, until it was no longer clear whose work was whose. I taught her poetry, and he taught me composition. She taught nothing in particular --exc
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Live for metal, fight for metal, die for metal.
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[Signtaure removed due to a copyright claim by the Church of Scientology]
[link]
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Live for metal, fight for metal, die for metal.
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[Signtaure removed due to a copyright claim by the Church of Scientology]
[link]
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Live for metal, fight for metal, die for metal.
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