A lump of ghostly architecture smears itself on the grass of outer planet rings, dressing mythology like a science - fiction dystopia, full of loop holes and marginal crime clues.
Ringing flies freeze moments with midnight trajectories and twilight preliminaries, dripping spinal fluids from the pores of socio-cultural experiments and fairy tale commentaries.
Leaking and sneezing, a mosh pit from galactic academies land on salt lakes and scramble languages with cuneiform revivals and forbidden runes of death.
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