The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind. "Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened. ” “I suppose not. Let us stay the night here. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 22-09-2024 12:26:21
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