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Lava Pouring from the SkySo there I was. On a mountain somewhere northeast of here. It was pitch black outside, actual time unknown. The sky was hidden by clouds, so I had to stay on top of this mountain.
The sky lights up bright red. I look to my left and see what looks like lava pouring from the sky. It was falling onto some industrial building that I never noticed before.
I finally notice that the lava-like substance is coming from this massive alien vehicle that's just peeking out of the clouds. This thing was monstrous. Just throwing lava onto this industrial building. It was beautiful. I take a picture with my phone.
Taking advantage of the illuminated sky, I head south and see more of these alien spacecraft. One is absolutely beautiful and looks almost alive, and others bear a stunning resemblance to a Metroid. They've crowded around a strange looking building. I head towards them out of pure curiosity.
They do me no harm. Are they unmanned, or actually alive and not harming me for whatever reason? Not
Is it love?Is it Love? (Or is it... MEMOREX?!)
Carved with the chisel of the gods.
Nothing more perfect.
A face of nothing you've ever seen,
I'm lost in beauty.
The definition of flawless
If only they would come to me.
Eyes of amber.
Face pale white.
As beautiful as
a tiger in the night.
I look in the mirror
and see this person of mine.
And I believe
that I'm in love for the very first time.
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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