Page 164 - BITE WINTER

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You’re the object of my desire
The cold chill in the air lls her lungs
As the wind swept, pine moves with the coming night
Pray to the winds, trust not in men
But honour the gods, for they have the right of way
OBJECTS
Photography / Graphic artist:TonyWellington
body of evidence....
Model: KaytWebster-Brown
OF MY
ESIRE
D
bite
ne
art