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Puer Vice

Here to wonder, why will we enter the gates of heaven as children?

You born witness, heed dearly to the scent for our return.  Our tithing before us; bereft a feather's lain within me, will you see me true?  Just one resists, surreptitiously; for the veil lifted; show me further, be with me as you go.

Rhubarb Pie
Fenestra