Forty Five Remedies (Death In A Cadence)
Hello, one. Two here, with a handwritten note for your eyes only:
Pledge to me to forever be my il distratto; scordatura.
Figure it out, my little dissonant Gondolier.
Yours Always,
the Queen of the Adriatic
Allow me to roll your dice for a moment, Sir, and can I have this danse macabre? There is a certain tragedy in knowing too much about a thing; the mystery will always make a thing beautiful. But if you want to know a secret (we all do) I will tell you one: there will always be magic in this place and it breathes in the infinitesimal space between skin touching skin; where the shadow persists and where the inaudible bays. That is my religion. And you, Criminal? You are my fallible god; my immortal beloved.
Pledge to me to forever be my il distratto; scordatura.
Figure it out, my little dissonant Gondolier.
Yours Always,
the Queen of the Adriatic
Allow me to roll your dice for a moment, Sir, and can I have this danse macabre? There is a certain tragedy in knowing too much about a thing; the mystery will always make a thing beautiful. But if you want to know a secret (we all do) I will tell you one: there will always be magic in this place and it breathes in the infinitesimal space between skin touching skin; where the shadow persists and where the inaudible bays. That is my religion. And you, Criminal? You are my fallible god; my immortal beloved.
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