Dreams, flame, ice.

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I cannot change what is.  I messed with the furnace, I have sought minor remedies thinking perhaps it is just a bug, I have prayed and thought and looked.  I suppose it just has to burn itself out, or freeze back over whole.  Until then, I will simply expose the wounds.




Too much.  My grasp weakened.  Even so, I have not shown it all.  Still too much, perhaps.  So be it.