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TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: elsewhere :: profile


10.28.06, saturday evening


On the path outside the locked castle, a robin (much smaller than the American robin, and super cute) hopped from branch to branch in order to get closer to us. It observed us with a tiny black glittering eye, and I thought of all those taxidermists, who never approximate, not even one iota, the unfathomable blackness, the ineffable liveliness, of that eye.




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