burning through an extreme lightness of tattooed flesh,
pale and as close to bloodless as life would allow.
"My favorite time...twilight"
only to find it was daybreak, where had the night gone?
She was becoming someone to reconstruct the structure of desire on terms that would stand above all else.
Besides, artificial agents had eradicated the existence of past cultures so deeply, the only way to reconstruct them was by carefully tracing the phenomenological symptoms of behavior and fiction intersecting in the winterzone of the chosen and the military.