[Part One] "My eyes are arid and cold on a portraits insides...I am time-hardened wax and I can see wide. Fungus and frost have fondled my front side and I- Did he wonder and wander in small ages? Did he forget that I died? He's older and ugly and a beautiful baby...he's retinal mist Far away, far away, leaning and twisting, I moan and I...Learn More