

TOUCHED BY DEATHTOUCHED BY DEATHTOUCHED BY DEATH
In this photography I call death, a few
could handle so much beauty
so much illusion walls that kept us trapped, we couldn't see her, we were looking for her, but she didn't come.
She was here, I mean, I was there, when she slipped through your lips, I was her breath, I was her eyes
when she saw all of us
and then we cried, like soft children bearing a hard nailed coat we run to the streets looking for the rain but the rain is gone.
How can something, so unhappy, but perfect, so dis
| I AM |

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*Infernal Arquetipo*
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Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction
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None of it make sense, but it makes great nonsense ~
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lo adoro!
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me ha dejado boquiabierto....esta muy bueno su trabajo, eh joven?
lo felicito pues
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un saludo desde Bogotá
ah, y suba más. porfa
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