By the time the harp had sung six songs in five languages at once, I was regretting picking its bones at random from the graverobber’s cart.
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August 22nd, 2009
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By the time the harp had sung six songs in five languages at once, I was regretting picking its bones at random from the graverobber’s cart.
Orpheus guides my fingers across these steel strings. My songs are for you, my lost Eurydice. Sometimes, I can’t help but look back...
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