2008
11.24
11.24
The pause during which the entire world halts in its orbit.
Your face embodies all the beauty of the world.
Your lips, as crimson as a ripe fruit, are half open as if to express pain.
A corpse’s smile. Here life and death shake hands.
The chain that links thousands of past generations to the thousands to come has been meshed.
- Edvard Munch
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