Me, I like vore and unbirth. But then, I'm strange […]

We were encircled by a ghostly decrepitude, roads that led to nowhere, canals holding pools of brilliant, stinking water, a few nat-haunted banyan trees, grotesque with old muscled trunks and bearded roots.

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Flowers, grass, trees, the sun and moon, even the human body, were to him brimming over with song.