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Oil Based Face
Tattered, shattered mirror upon my very temperament, I ask you not of whom you see! Rubbing the powered remains from a profile of mass confusion, she stands and weeps blindly of what remains of the hand and vein! Without a proper voice, hand and sentiment, she chooses to move not a muscle of her survival! And as her eyes become wholesome, she appears for the very first time, profile to profile; oil based face! Should I wipe the renewed marvel at quick pace or delay until my voice can shadow the proper depths of my heart? I hear drums, faint and powerful inside the background of this oil based fog and desire simply to salsa! Should I attempt to move my ground and live, rather than occur? What steals my time now? Unbolt mine eyes, to one at thyself and I witness her! Colors abound within every possible life-form to feed from! Small, miniature fingers make small movements toward the streaming, colorful mirror to trace! Fingers of high age molest the steamed echo, bringing forth a flawless picture to shadow! Oil based face, I now perceive all that I am! Oil based face, I am nothing as I fade back into an awarding slumber, for conquest owns not the suitable portion within her elements! I witness! I rise!