Our lady in the abbatoir. She's hanging headless, charred. Baby on her
Breast - there's nothing left, the milk turned to powder, Twist her, she's
An hour glass - but time has died. The blast was final. Captain's flat down
In the urinal fixing cos he's sick of shooting shadows.
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Photos
Artist: X-legged Sally
Artist: Mike Dillon
Artist: Zelmani Sophie
Artist: Emilie Autumn