All I could feel were the cymbals the sun was clashing against my forehead, and, indistinctly, the dazzling spear still leaping up off the knife in front of me. It was like a red hot blade gnawing at my eyelashes and gouging out my stinging eyes. That was when everything shook. The sea swept ashore a great breath of fire.
Similar to: Andy Stott, Pantha du Prince
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- ▼ 01 (12)