autonomous curator

The sidereal comps; distressfully, weightly. allaying light falling flat, fulgent and sweltry across the tiles. Here are the awkward bod; revenant made and unmade. A quiver sweeps through her, a clap in her atria. Perennials deflate on the cluttered upholstery pattern, a confusion of floss. She co-canters in the corridor, roaming observed from the woods beyond.

She gyrates, sleeves thrumming through the air. Silk butterflies bled on by muslin, she can’t shirk. Head pitched, exposing a thin, slender throat, un jabot des plumes blanches. Comeliness will hold. The trees parcel and usher, an extricate path.

The parlor simmers in the descent of light, made thirsty for color, everything blanched. The house magnifies; a haze in the containing air. Every room achromatic, almost empty–black and white.

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