Vernal equinox comes and goes, sun rises more northerly each day. Winter's pale disguise collapsing reveals dank truth and sodden leaves. No burbling rivulet may assuage the stark reality of last fall's leaves reduced to moulding slices of autumn dreams.
Narcissus-X is artist, and art must be true, be stark, be unrelenting drip-drip-drip of drenched dreams and dashed hopes. Not for Narcissus-X, the smiling multitude's adulation. Rather, Narcissus-X reveals the moldering leaves and sodden dust beneath winter's sparkling screen.
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