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AVANT_GARDE_2 by
WOLF
Time has a way of ceasing to mean anything when Wolf is singing, her voice weaving siren-like into the hollow spaces between our ears where, it seems, thoughts used to live. Was there a time before Wolf's song? A time before the arresting movements of her body filled our eyes with ghosts of her, a time before our own bodies echoed her curves and flow, was there a time? No matter... Wolf is singing now...
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