Celebrating the darkness in beauty and the vivid torture of abject humanism through pockets of soft light.
Through petals falling. Through the theatrically of angels born from icicles. Through some penitent beautiful nightmare offering its misgivings.
Through sex.
Through love.
Through glass.







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Bexta
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Bexta
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Bexta
Yeah I'm living inner west at the mo
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Bexta
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