Hesperis matronalis L.—damask violet. dame’s v., sweet rocket. Wish I was writing The Faerie Queene. The honest livings we pretend to make. Such an austere sentence dude. From the desert. On the beach there was a kind of invisible nettle/swarming insect/twanging harpstring creature that would deposit a clear resinous lacquer on the paper in your lap and sting you and bruise you and deafen you with vibrations. Beckoned, I walked towards it all day, because of billboard wisdom.
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