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in theory, love is a clockwork device.


Dark indeed it was, the beating heart pumping black fluid through the hard, ticking device. Silicon, flesh and steel it was and the fluid that ran through it gurgled like a cry of desperate, longing pain. But it loved, oh yes, it loved. The god cupid striding forward broken of steel and sand crumbles and lets loose the flesh and slides sightless to the ground and the ground cries out in fear and rage as the skin of the love god breaks on impact and out roll gears and wires and twine and all the things ticking and ticking and tick tick tick tick.

(original source: t.b)

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