And I go down the stairs again with the screeching of my worn out soul P. G. tunes instruments for his golden arm alchemy in a metropolitan shell The… - Caterina Davinio

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And I go down the stairs again with the screeching of my worn out soul P. G. tunes instruments for his golden arm alchemy in a metropolitan shell The squeak of time was thrown back into the cracks where the plaster has the form of a twisting branch and my veins are sturdy trunks, scaly, for drops of green sap nourishment rising from the bowels of the earth, …