(Open windows wide open on the ransacking of real - skull cracked buildings that crosses not the sun, not air, not the time ravaging and even splits and goes through but just a little dust raised by the accident and ends up with all of these things - and when placing your fingers on the window sill, I lean and retires at the moment hand that I hold in my fist is flawless - they are, windows, skulls, buildings and contents havoc with both hands, I could bring to my lips and make me smile mask Yorick) 
notes in the margins of a work in progress, Yorick 
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