A meander within the labyrinth of a psychosexual, kaleidoscopic celebration of love. Exchanges become snakes eating their own tales. Pushing and pulling the material lands around like an archetype having no form of its own. A release, torrential shadows, blood rushes and clots by bound sailor knots, bruises mark time existing only in thought. A movement, a whirl, a reach into the deep. Excavating histories beneath a pasture of follicles, batting lashes, lashing back. The ebb is a duplicate of the waving of the sea and a tale bathed in mystery of its own origins.

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